The Sweet Hell We Shared
by Marty1
Summary: AU 'Every night the world ends and every morning I wake up screaming.' The Vietnam War rages on if only in Ken Hidaka's mind. Three years after the war he struggles to forget even as he remembers. Epilogue
1. Good Morning Vietnam

Disclaimer: Not mine, but who cares. They amuse under my tutelage, ne?  
  
Comments: Ok, so here is something a bit different from what I have been writing. This is my first AU. I fear a bit. but not much. It takes place during the Vietnam War. The places I mention, Pang Nuan base and Sang Cho- na, do not really exist. At least as far as I know they do not. They are constructed to suit my purposes and are just a general idea of what places like them might have been like. The 326th AHC, however, probably did exist. If you know anyone who was in the 326th AHC, don't yell at me, I just liked the number. Eventually this fic will end up being shonen-ai, I am assuming nobody has a problem with that. Anyway, please enjoy. And forgive my lack of historical knowledge.  
  
Just a couple notes on terminology:  
  
AHC stands for Assault Helicopter Company. These really existed; in fact they made up a large part of the war effort in Vietnam.  
  
Bell UH-1: a type of helicopter used during the Vietnam War mostly for trasportation or troops and the evacuation of the wounded form the battle field. Large and open-sided. Occasionally used offensively, could be fitted with various devices and used in 'search and destroy' type missions. (Also called Iroquois)  
  
Huey: an offensive type helicopter, seated two, a pilot and a gunner. (think 'Top Gun' in a helicopter).  
  
A door gunner is the member of the UH-1 helicopter crew who sits behind the door mounted machine gun and it is his job to defend the rest of the crew and those in transport as the helicopter loads, unloads, and takes off. He sits in plain view of enemies from the ground and has one of the most hazardous jobs in the history of the war. The life expectancy for a door gunner was something like four months give or take.  
  
I gave Schu a name. It's Max Wolff (and yes, that's a German 'W' so say it like a -V-). Max in this case is German and is pronounced more like 'Mux'. Just thought you'd like to know.  
  
Also, some pretty harsh terms are thrown around in here (i.e. Gook, Jap, Nip). I used these terms not to be offensive, but because they were the terms used at the time and nobody cared if they were derogatory or not. Please bear that in mind.  
  
Can't think of any more notes right now. If anything is confusing let me know, and I'll clear it up in the next chapter. R&R, or feel my wrath!!  
  
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Every night the world ends and every morning I wake up screaming. The sound of gunfire, rounds popping off one after the other, the harsh cries of men in their death throes, chopper blades slicing the air in dull and unfeeling monotony all echo through the dark places of my soul as I sleep. Not once in three years have I slept without dreams. Not once since the war ended. No. before that. not once since I lost him.  
  
Last night was no different. Nothing ever changes anymore.  
  
The harsh, searing sound of my own cries jolts me from my anguished slumber, dull, hateful light oozes through the gaps in the curtains. My eyes ache. My head aches. Everything aches. I must have been fighting in my sleep again. I'm covered in sweat; a cold, clammy stickiness hangs about my skin.  
  
My dog whines apologetically, resting his chin on the bed beside me. I look down at him, panting, and try to smile. He raises his eyebrows and whines again.  
  
"It's alright, Banzai," I scratch his ears gently. The warmth of life comforts me and I smile a little better. "I'm fine. See. I'm fine."  
  
He whines again as if asserting his doubt in my words.  
  
I get out of bed, pulling off my sweat drenched pajama pants. I can't sleep naked anymore. Too many bugs. at least that's what I can't get out of my head. Old habits die hard. Banzai pads to the door and sits patiently, head cocked to one side. I wonder what he's listening for.  
  
I should take a shower, but breakfast is more important. I put on a dirty pair of jeans and walk to the kitchen. There's a message on the phone. I glance at the clock. Who would have called earlier than eight? Sighing, I twist the knob and walk on to the sink as the tape whirrs, rewinding. I reach for one of the multitude of shiny, orange bottles that line the back splash. Just as I pop two small, pink and red pills into my mouth the message machine kicks in.  
  
"Ken? Hi, this is Doctor Craig. I've been going over your files, and I think it's time to re-evaluate your medication dosage again. Give me a call. we'll set up an appointment." *Beep*  
  
I sigh and hang my head, swallowing the pills in my mouth without the benefit of water. My insurance must be running out. Time to put in a phone call to the Veteran's Association. I can't afford to be taken off my meds. they keep my head quiet. Amazing what a few little pills can do to still the mind, if not the soul. I put the bottle back and walk past the end of the counter. The light is still blinking. there's another message.  
  
I turn the dial again and wait as the tape rewinds some more. "Ken-kun. Daijoubu ka?" It's in Japanese. It's my mother. "Where are you sweetie, why don't you come home? You know that it was all a misunderstanding; please we're all so sorry. It isn't good for you to be on your own right now. Come home, Ken-kun. Let your family take care of you. It's been three years since the war ended. More since you left us. I call you almost everyday. Why don't you call back? I love you, my son. I'm so sorry. Please call home. You don't have to talk to Daddy if you don't want to. .. He never meant to hurt you, darling. Please. call Mommy. Sayonara." *beep*  
  
Taking a deep breath I turn from the machine and put my head in my hands. Never meant to hurt me? What a joke. He's the one that started the snowball of pain. and now look where I am. I can't talk to those people. I need some food in my stomach before my pills make me wretch. Or maybe that's just my mother's voice..  
  
I fry two eggs and three pieces of sausage. I feed one of them to Banzai. The Cat starts prancing on the table, shedding on my eggs, but I don't really mind. If cat hair were the worst thing I'd ever found in my food I'd be a lucky man.  
  
Breakfast is followed by a shower. The shower by some clean clothes. I have to get down to the store. Mary will need help today. The freight is coming in. I pull on my old army jacket, the one that has my last name on the left breast. -Hidaka- I touch it slowly and then reach into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet. I repeat this ceremony every time I leave my house. I have to. I have to remember. always remember.  
  
Flipping the leather open I reach behind the crumpled bills and produce my talisman. It's just a faded, black and white photograph. It's been folded and re-folded so many times that it's practically falling apart. The crease lines are so worn that some of the faces can't even be made out any more, but that's ok. They are all burned into my mind's eyes. I can see them. I still do. everywhere I go.  
  
Seven men, well, boys some of them, smile back at me. The two pilots, the two door gunners, the Crew Chief, the Lieutenant Commander, and the kid. Cocky grins all around. except for maybe him. He didn't like to smile in pictures. He didn't really like to smile at all. I run my finger over his face. And then run my thumb over the kid's face. I touch each smiling face in turn, whispering their names and ranks under my breath, a mantra that keeps them alive in me.  
  
Distantly I can hear the crack of gunfire again, helicopters taking off, the whine of a dying engine, shouts, screams, and even laughter. Snapping myself out of the past I shake my head, quickly fold the photograph up and hide it away in my wallet again. I wonder if I should take another pill. Naw. save it for another day.  
  
I call Banzai to my side and step out the front door, closing it soundly behind me. I think of the kid's face. covered in blood, crying in my arms, covered in his blood. -I wanna go home. Ken. please. I just wanna go home.. Take me home. momma where are you?-  
  
But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me start at the beginning.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
I arrived on the banks of the river late in the day. I'd been driven all the way up the river in a transport convoy along with a handful of other new recruits. We were all silent. No reason to talk. The roar of the boat engine drowned out everything else anyway. Besides that it was too damn hot to talk. Sweat beads rolled down my forehead and were wiped away hastily, only to be replaced in a few moments by a new drip. In the time to come it would be the heat that I came to hate the most.  
  
The boat pulled up to a makeshift dock and we were ushered off unceremoniously, our canvas army bags thrown over the side into a heap. For some reason it was necessary to make us feel as little like human beings as possible. There was nothing to do but grab my bag and follow the others down the dock. The air smelled strange. Acrid and burning. I would learn that this smell was caused by the systematic burning of the jungle mixed with the lingering scent of napalm, and that there was no escaping it. At the end of the dock several soldiers were milling around. My attention was immediately caught by a lean, long haired red-head leaning against a post. He ginned wolfishly at every newbie that passed him by.  
  
By the looks of him he'd been here awhile. His hair was long and unkempt, falling almost to his waist. A flashy yellow bandana kept it tied back out of his face. His eyes were shrewd and calculating, his skin tanned and tight. There was something about him that was both intriguing and frightening. He seemed a man who had lost his fear of death. and thus his fear of life, which is infinitely more terrifying.  
  
As I made my way slowly down the dock, rolling up my sleeves, trying to force myself to adjust to the heat, his eyes, sharp blue, fixed on me and his wolfish grin spread. He straightened and stepped into my path, angling his head haughtily.  
  
"You must be Hidaka," he'd said assuredly.  
  
I paused, looking him over once again, and shifted my bag. "That's right."  
  
He held out his hand. "Max Wolff, pilot in the 326th AHC, but around here I'm called Schuldich. I'm here to take you to the base."  
  
I wondered momentarily about the origin of his strange nickname. "This isn't the base?"  
  
He laughed harshly and motioned around. "This shit-hole? Hell no. This is a transport stop, a way station if you will. Sure there are a few units stationed here, but most of these unlucky bastards are just passing through on their way to bigger and better things," he grinned that sly grin again and winked. "Or not so much better things if you catch my drift."  
  
With nothing else to say I'd only nodded and let him lead me away from the docks. After a few moments I began to speak up. "How did you know who I was? I mean that I was who you were looking for?"  
  
He glanced back at me over his shoulder and smirked. "Well, first of all your hair is too long for you to be just out of basic. A pilot has to go through training, so time enough for you hair to grow out a bit. Then of course I knew I was looking for an oriental with a name like Hidaka."  
  
"Asian," I cut in sharply.  
  
"Pardon?"  
  
"The correct term is Asian. Oriental refers to an object, not a person. A rug can be oriental. I cannot."  
  
His smile had wavered a bit and his eyebrows twitched. "Hey, didn't mean to offend, buddy. But around here, you'll be lucky if you aren't called a Jap or a Gook. We're in a war against -Asians-, so don't be surprised if you get shit, kid."  
  
"I won't be. Don't worry I've been getting shit my entire life. It's nothing new to me. But then again, I thought we were also fighting this war -for- Asians."  
  
Schuldich gave me an odd look and then shook his head. "Yeah well, believe whatever you want. All that aside, like I said I'll be taking you to the Pang Nuan base. It's a little over one hundred kliks from here. Our ride's on the other side of that hangar." He pointed vaguely and my eyes followed to set on a metal-sided box. Some hangar.  
  
"So you're in the 326th? That's my assignment as well. You fly Hueys and UH-1s?"  
  
The redhead had grinned at me over his shoulder, running his hand through a piece of his shocking hair. "I can fly the crates they come in."  
  
There was nothing to do but smile back so I did. But inside I was scared shitless. It must have showed because Schuldich paused and put a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry, Hidaka, flying with 326th will be one of the best things you'll ever do. Nothing can beat the feeling of being in control on an expensive piece of equipment. And what could be better than getting to shoot Gooks?"  
  
I hadn't been able think of anything tasteful to say off the top of my head, so I didn't. I just smiled and nodded.  
  
Little did I know just exactly how much of my life would be built around flying with Schuldich and shooting Gooks.  
  
In a matter of moments we arrived at the helicopter, a long, low slung Bell UH-1, a transport aircraft. "Well here she is. My baby. Hop in, Hidaka and enjoy the ride. We'll be home by sundown."  
  
"If we're lucky," a harsh voice said from behind us. Schuldich whirled around and I did the same.  
  
A man with short, cropped, white hair stood with his arms crossed over his chest. The shirtsleeves of his army jacket had been cut off, exposing unexpectedly pale arms. He grinned slowly, a strange light playing behind his oddly yellow eyes. He looked like a man who had seen things I could only imagine.  
  
"Jesus, Jei!" Schuldich snapped. "You sneaky bastard, don't do that. You were supposed to wait inside the chopper."  
  
The other man rolled his eyes and smirked. "I wanted to look at the new shipment of weapons. If we're lucky some of that will come our way. A few new pretty grenade models. Felt smoother than silk in my hand," he said harshly.  
  
I tried not to look too taken aback and turned to dump my bag in the UH-1.  
  
"You're a strange one, Jei, that you are," Schuldich said under his breath. Inward I silently agreed. I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned around again. "This is my door gunner, Jei Farfarello. He smells a bit, but he's really quite sweet."  
  
The two chuckled to themselves. Farfarello made a show of raising an arm and smelling himself. "I think it's safe to say we all smell a bit. The jungle does not induce hygiene. You got extra pairs of socks, Hidaka?"  
  
Caught off guard by the question I simply stared at him blankly. "Huh?"  
  
"I asked if you brought extra pairs of socks."  
  
I nodded and glanced around.  
  
"Good. Remember one thing above all else. Keep your feet dry. Thing grow in the jungle. if you catch my meaning."  
  
I did and didn't want to think about it, but I would always remember to keep my feet dry. It would be one of the single most important lessons I'd learn.  
  
The trip to the base was uneventful. I could look on the lush green carpet of jungle with eyes as of yet unclouded by the hatred that would later dwell in my heart at the very sight of the hateful green expanses. To new eyes it seemed beautiful, the river twisting below us like a blue snake. The low sitting sun cast the most beautiful light I'd ever seen. I tried to listen as Farfarello and Schuldich went on about the different landmarks we passed over in the Huey, but found my thoughts drifting. At one point Schuldich told me to pilot. I did so gladly. It was one thing I was good at. It gave me self worth, something I had been short on for a long time. Ever since the day I left home. It was why I was there, in Nam. I had nothing else, so it didn't matter.  
  
Pang Nuan was a newly erected base and was the hub of operations for not only the 326th AHC, but the 194th and several infantry units as well. A group of green berets would come through every once in a while, but for the majority of time I spent there it was just us. The 326th had in fact been created with the soul intent of being stationed at Pang Nuan. That's why they were filling in the gaps with newbies such as myself. According to my superiors my arrival would mark the completion of the 326th and trigger the official entering of Pang Nuan into service. I should have felt a lot more special than I did. There was a city called Sang Cho-na about twenty klicks outside of the base. It would eventually serve as a place of both respite and sorrow. We buzzed the streets on our way past, and peering from my vantage point above the throngs of slow moving farmers, women, their wide brimmed hats bobbing in the fading light, and the ever present herds of water buffalo I could not even begin to know how much the filthy streets of that city would come to mean to me.  
  
"That's Sang Cho-na. We're to be allowed to take leave there if we want. I've been here for over a month so I've had time to scope it out. Come next leave time, I'll take you around, Hidaka," Schuldich had yelled over the dull whacking of the chopper blades.  
  
"Sounds good to me," I said in response, leaning farther out the side door to get a better look.  
  
The base came into view next. It was larger than I thought it would be. Schuldich leaned closer to me. "We'll swing over the base. I'll give you a little aerial tour."  
  
I'd simply nodded.  
  
Schuldich pointed towards an organized cluster of long, slat wood buildings with dull tin roofs. "Those are the barracks, sleeping quarters. The 326th is housed in that last one. Those huge metal structures are the chopper hangars, of course there's the landing field, the tower, and the radio room. In the center there. yeah the cement structures those are the infirmary, the officers' quarters and the mess hall. And far off to the left are the drill field, the weapons barracks, and the rec hall. Not bad, considering some of the places I've been stationed. Just be glad you ended up in an American run base instead of a Vietnamese run one. Welcome to Pang Nuan, Hidaka. Hope it suits ya," he said grinning wolfishly.  
  
I smiled back weakly, feeling my face pale as I realized that this was my new home.  
  
We landed, grass whipping madly as the chopper blades kicked up a wind of what seemed like hurricane force. I jumped through the open-sided door, shouldering my bag and hurrying from the landing site. I was just wondering if I should wait for Schuldich and Jei when I noticed a tall, lanky man wearing an army cap waving to me. Glancing once over my shoulder I hurried towards him. As I came up to him, he put his arm around my shoulder and drew me away, holding his cap down with his other hand.  
  
"I wish Schuldich would just -shut that damn thing off-!" he shouted over his shoulder. "He lets it run just because he knows it pissed me off." He turned his head and grinned at me broadly, continuing to pull me farther and farther from the metal hangars.  
  
When he felt that we had gone the appropriate distance, whatever that might be, he paused and turned to me, offering his hand. "Lieutenant Youji Kudou," he said between grinning teeth.  
  
Still somewhat stunned I began to reach for his hand before realizing my mistake. I hastily retrieved my hand and brought it to my forehead in a salute. "Sir. Sorry sir, I didn't realize.."  
  
He rolled his eyes and smacked my hand down. "Cut that shit out. When I offer my hand, you'd better take it, kid. So take it."  
  
Unable to do anything else I complied, taking his hand in mine. His handshake was firm. My recollection of Youji Kudou comes out something like this. He was a young man in his early twenties, but to the rest of us, the majority of which were 21 or under he was practically an old timer. He kept his shoulder length hair tucked up under his cap most of the time except for when he swore it was too hot even for sex, which I would learn was quite something coming from Lieutenant Kudou. His eyes were a deep green and danced with a childlike playfulness. Of course those eyes hid many secrets. Some of which I would learn and some of which I can only guess at even now.  
  
His smile was always quick and ready. "So you must be the new pilot for the 326th. Ken Hidaka, correct?"  
  
"Er. correct, sir."  
  
"Well, there you go. Welcome to hell, soldier. I'm the Crew Chief of the 326th, you'll be taking orders from me for as long as you're stationed here. Hope you find that satisfactory."  
  
"I'm sure I will. As long as your orders don't get me killed, sir," I said without really thinking.  
  
His face paled a bit, his smile fading. He lowered his eyes and adjusted his cap. "Well, that's the trick now, isn't it?"  
  
For a moment I couldn't believe that I had said what I did. I could think of no way to cover my faux pas. Of course he had had soldiers dies under his leadership, he was in essence responsible for the lives of every crewman in the 326th AHC. Reminding him of that fact was both cruel and pointless.  
  
"I. I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean.," I stuttered, looking away.  
  
He only shrugged, his smile snapping back into place. "Don't worry about it, Hidaka," he said lightly, slapping me on the back. "I'll show to your barracks and you can stash your crap before assembly tonight."  
  
"Assembly, sir?"  
  
"Ah, yes. The first official assembly of the base. All personnel are to report to the training field. The Lieutenant Commander wants to give all the newly stationed here a pep talk or something. And then," he's said looking around conspiratorially, "we're going to play football. A real treat. Be excited."  
  
"Oh, I am sir. I am."  
  
We both chuckled. I had a feeling even then that I was going to like the Crew Chief of the 326th AHC.  
  
He patted my back once again as we came upon the barracks building. "Well, here you go, Hidaka. Home sweet home. There should only be one bunk left open, so you shouldn't have any trouble finding which one is yours. You'll be sharing the bunk with your door gunner, so you can argue with him over who gets top and bottom."  
  
At this I'd nearly burst out laughing, but managed to stifle it down to a strangled chuckling. The Lieutenant commander eyed me warily and then slapped me on the back again. "Well at least I know you have not only a sense of humor but a dirty mind as well. I think I'm going to like you, Ken Hidaka. See you at assembly, soldier."  
  
"Thank you, Lieutenant Kudou."  
  
He turned and waved, heading off towards the officer's quarters. I watched his back until he disappeared around another barracks building and then turned to enter the low slung building before me.  
  
The smell of many unwashed, sweating men assailed me as I entered the long building, walking purposefully down the center isle way flanked on either side by military issue bunk beds. The eyes of the men already within followed me with slow, determined curiosity. I could feel them measuring me, wondering how worthy I was to be a member of their company. I kept my head low, my eyes strait ahead.  
  
"Yo, Hidaka, there you are. I didn't think we'd beat you back here, but here we are just he same," I heard the now familiar voice of Max Wolff call out to me. I raised my eyes to seek him out; it wasn't hard, his bright hair hailing me from afar. "Your bunk's over here, kid." I doubled my pace.  
  
I saw Jei Farfarello, who I was beginning to think of as Schuldich's sidekick, jump up onto one of the bunks and start to poke at something.  
  
"Eh, Randy-boy, aren't you gonna get up to greet your latest pilot?"  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Come on, Randy-boy. You can't just lie here reading. Your latest victim has arrived!" Jei cried a bit maniacally.  
  
Schuldich turned and grabbed the back of Farfarello's vestified army coat, hauling him down from the bunk. "Shut your yap, you idiot. Jesus, Jei. Where's all your tact gone, man? Get back, you lazy eyed psycho."  
  
Farfarello had simply grinned and licked his lip going to swing himself up into the bunk across from what I now assumed to be mine. Schuldich went to poke the bottom of the top bunk. "Come on, Fujimiya, don't you want to meet the newest and latest member of the 326th? Get your ass up and at least look, you grumpy ass-hole," he grumbled, punching the underside of the mattress.  
  
"Fuck off, Max," the man who was lying in the top bunk growled.  
  
"It's alright," I said, dropping my bag at the end of the bunk. I let my fingers trail over the metal bedpost, sighing softly.  
  
Suddenly the young man sat up abruptly, letting the book he had been reading fall shut. He leaned forward and locked his eyes with mine over the end of the bed. The endless intensity I found there nearly knocked me over. He was like no one I'd ever seen before, tense and vivid. His hair was a deep red color; his eyes seemed impossibly dark blue, contrasting with the pale fineness of his skin. He had removed his army jacket, sitting in nothing but a plain white cotton t-shirt, his dog tags resting against his outlined chest. I felt naked under his scrutiny, but was unable to tear myself away or move beyond his sight. Eventually he held out his hand slowly.  
  
"Ran Fujimaya, I'm your door gunner." His voice was deep and flat. I made me think of a windless ocean.  
  
I held out my hand in response, taking his in mine. I was surprised at how cold his fingers felt. It would not be the last time.  
  
"Ken Hidaka, I guess that means that I'm your new pilot," I said trying to keep my voice strong. I swallowed against the strange coldness I felt coming from the young man.  
  
"Yes. I guess it does. Now if you don't mind. I'm going back to reading. Feel free to take over the bottom bunk. I prefer being on top."  
  
Shculdich and I had the frame of mind to exchange a hasty glance. He covered his mouth, and suddenly began to cough violently.  
  
"Say, Max, how long do you give him? The newbie that is?" Farfarello broke in in his strangely soft voice.  
  
Schuldich had shot him a long, dirty glance. "Shut up, Jei."  
  
"Just curious. Being with Randy-boy. I'll give him. eh. two months. Tops," Farfarello drawled slowly, his eyes shifting from me to Fujimiya.  
  
"I told you to shut your Irish pie hole, Farf!" Schuldich snapped angrily.  
  
Farfarello pouted. "No. I want to ask Ranny what he thinks. So, Ran, what do you think? Eh, Randy-boy. What's your vote? How long do you think he'll survive you?" The white haired man had begun to toss small pieces of what looked like wood bark across the gap between the bunks.  
  
I watched as several pieces bounced off the quiet body of my door gunner. He made no sound, save that of the turning of a page.  
  
"C'mon, Nippy, just hazard a guess. What's the average one of your pilot's has lasted? How long will the newbie survive your little jinx?"  
  
Before I knew what was happening Fujimiya sat bolt upright, swung down from the bunk, and pulled Jei from his, punching him in the face. The single, graceful movement was nothing more that a blur before my eyes. The white haired door gunner's head whipped back, a small spray of blood erupting from his nose. Fujimiya released him with a shove and then turned, pushing past me, and walked without a word from the barracks.  
  
"Shit, Jei, I told you to shut-up," Schuldich snapped, kicking his partner lightly in the leg.  
  
But Farfarello had only swayed slightly, and clutching his nose chuckled perversely to himself.  
  
The sight sent shivers up my spine and I was beginning to wonder just where this war was being fought. 


	2. Getting to Know You

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and do not claim to. I'm just using them to my own ends.  
  
Comments: *sweatdrops* I made a few logistical errors in the first chapter, which I went back and fixed. I made notes of them there, but in case you don't want to go back and sniff them out, I'll mention them quickly. The helicopters that Ken and Schu fly are not Hueys, they are Bell UH-1 Iroquois. I was confused. Hueys are assault, two person choppers, and Ken and Schu probably -could- fly them, but they don't, they fly transport aircraft. There are some notes on the choppers in the last chapter that I wrote in when I fixed the mistakes. Read them if you want. Anyway, other than that I hope you are enjoying the fic so far. This chapter is kind slow, sorry, cause its only the second chapter. Please read and review!! I want to know if this is any good. And let me know if the characters seem too OOC. *sweatdrops* I hope not, although Crawford is a little weird or something. And don't worry! The other guys will show up eventually. and as for whether or not this is going to end up shonen-ai. go and read the first chapter comments!! R&R.  
  
A couple notes (read if you want):  
  
Mekong River Delta: The Mekong River flows through the southern part of South Vietnam. Most of the Southern tip of the country is a huge, swampy drainage area. As such it was the perfect place during the war for the Viet Cong to set up guerilla warfare and booby traps. It is hot, swampy, buggy, and very hazardous. Helicopters were used in this area a lot in order to fly infantry troop in and out of the jungle.  
  
Just a quick note on the Vietnam War, in case anybody was confused. The war went like this: North vs. South. North was communist and consisted of the North Vietnamese Army and the Viet Cong (guerilla units). The South was democratic and was the side that the Americans fought on. The Sough Vietnamese were not very welcoming of our support. Other allied nations who fought during the Vietnam War were France and Australia. The war took place during the sixties and early seventies. The American forces eventually pulled out of Vietnam and the South fell to the North. (aka: we lost.)  
  
On to the story!  
  
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In my mind's eye I remember the Lieutenant Commander something like this. He was tall, leggy even, with hair that was a deep bluish/black color hanging over the rims of his glasses. Glasses which always made him seem slightly reminiscent of John Lennon. He had a habit of adjusting his glasses, pushing them up his nose, pulling them down his nose, taking them off, lifting them up, chewing on the their wires, etc.whenever he became annoyed. Which if I remember correctly was quite often. Lieutenant Commander Crawford had the air of a man who was battling furiously to stay afloat in the sea of idiots that surrounded him, and doing so seemed to fray his nerves down to nothing. Crawford tried very hard to be a man who breached no insubordination, took no shit from those posted beneath him, he wanted to be a ruthless commander, and played war by the book. And with the cast of characters who eventually came to settle at the Pang Nuan base it's a wonder, now that I can look back on it, that the poor, beleaguered man didn't become homicidal. His hands often shook with a suppressed rage that threatened to break forth and strangle the nearest private. Quite often it was only his fellow commanding officers, such as our own Lieutenant Kudou, who could calm him down, hauling him forcefully away from a blood-pressure-raising confrontation with Schuldich.  
  
The Lieutenant Commander was always a lot calmer after a few glasses of brandy.  
  
It's so sad really. I know now that he just wanted to win the war so badly that it consumed his life. And sadder still is that he actually thought he could do it single handedly.  
  
The first time I met Lieutenant Commander Bradley Crawford was at assembly that first night in Pang Nuan. I followed Schuldich and Farfarello from the barracks to the training field, which had been set up with a system of temporary bleachers. Schuldich steered me towards several different groups of men milling about, conversing with themselves. He introduced me to some of the guys from the 194th AHC and a few infantry companies as well. Most were happy to shake hands and give the perfunctory nod, but there was no immediate bond, no feeling of brotherhood. I guessed I was going to have to prove myself. So far I seemed to be the newest guy out there.  
  
After a few minutes of being passed around with Schuldich I decided I'd had enough. Stepping away from the conversing soldiers I headed towards the rickety bleacher ensemble. It was then that I noticed Ran Fujimiya leaning nonchalantly against the end. His eyes were halfway closed, as if he was dozing or simply meditating. His arms were crossed across his chest.  
  
For some reason I felt as if he owed me an explanation for what had occurred earlier in the barracks. I was curious as to what Jei had been alluding to, and why it had caused such a violent reaction in the seemingly levelheaded redhead. Well, that and I felt drawn to him. He and I would be directly responsible for each other's lives for as long as we served together in the 326th, and I was not satisfied with how our relationship was progressing.  
  
"Fujimiya!" I called out, jogging towards him, pushing past olive drab bodies. I noticed that my cry brought a bit more attention from the other soldiers than I'd expected. A few heads popped up to glance in my direction, eyes swiveled and I felt a strange hesitancy in the air. I ignored all of this, moving intently towards my target.  
  
His eyes shifted towards me, narrowing slightly, his head inclining ever so slightly. His body shifted in my direction as he straightened to stare passively. "Hn?"  
  
"Ken Hidaka, remember?" I said a bit more out of breath that I thought I would be, coming to stand in front of him. I held out my hand again, and immediately felt like a fool for doing so.  
  
He glanced down at my hand and then up into my face, narrowing his eyes again. "I know who you are. We just met, Hidaka," he said slowly in a voice that was flawless, emotionless.  
  
I drew my hand back, nervously wiping my palms on my legs and smiled apologetically. "Yeah, I know. I just. I felt that maybe we didn't have the greatest of introductions," I'd replied lamely.  
  
"Our introduction was fine. We shook hands. What more do you want?" he asked, seeming genuinely confused.  
  
Unable to think of anything to say immediately I said nothing, and simply shrugged instead, turning away to look over the training field full of men. The air was thick with impatience and tension. I felt as if half of it was coming straight from Fujimiya. Eventually, without looking back at him I said, "I just thought. maybe we should get to know more about each other. since we'll be serving together. I mean directly serving together, you know. We might want to.," at this I did turn my head and was nearly frozen by the coldness of his eyes, "get to know each other." I finished in little more than a whisper.  
  
His frozen eyes, narrow and hostile held me in their grip for a few moments more and then he slowly said, "All I need to know about you is that you can fly a helicopter. Can you?"  
  
Taken aback by his open disdain, I'd been unable to do anything but nod dully,.  
  
"Good. I don't want to know anything else about you, Hidaka."  
  
I fought to find something biting to say, but even as I struggled to find the right words I knew my efforts would be wasted. It was rapidly becoming obvious that nothing made its way through the ice wall of Private Ran Fujimiya. Still, I opened my mouth to snap something in reply, but was distracted by a sudden commotion.  
  
Lt. Kudou came bounding onto the field, tipped his head back and yelled, "Everybody sit down!"  
  
There was a momentary lull in the conversation, a few heads popped up, a few feet shuffled towards the bleachers.  
  
"Now!" Kudou screamed again, taking of his hat and waving it around.  
  
A few more feet shuffled towards the bleachers, a few more heads popped up to look at the flailing Lieutenant.  
  
"That's an order, soldiers! Don't make me court marshal all of your sorry asses!"  
  
At this there was a general groan of annoyance, but all feet turned towards the bleachers. I watched, unable to tear my eyes away from the throng of mobile men, fascinated by the power of organized leadership.  
  
"Shouldn't you go find a seat, Hidaka?" Fujimiya said to me in his cold voice.  
  
I turned away from him without another word, and took the first open seat available to me. It was then that I first saw Lt. Commander Crawford.  
  
He ambled slowly onto the field, his hands in his pockets, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. As he made his way to the front of the bleachers he began to play with his glasses, it looked as if he was talking to himself. A calculating half smile never left his face. I couldn't decide if it made him look more Mona Lisa or more Mad Hatter. He stood, waiting for the last of us to settle down, languidly brushing at the stripes on his arms. A few of the gutsier soldiers had the nerve to catcall in his general direction. By the way his eye twitched it was obvious that Crawford was working his way towards a stress headache.  
  
"Gentlemen," he'd said at length, giving his glasses one last push up his nose, and raising his eyes, looking over the bleachers, "you are one sorry bunch of sons of bitches. Words cannot express my feelings towards you all."  
  
"Aw, aint that sweet?" one anonymous voice called out.  
  
"You wanna pick out curtains already?" another cried.  
  
Crawford only smiled slowly. "But tonight I will put my personal feelings aside. Because tonight I am here for one reason and one reason only. and that is to blow sunshine up each and every one of your asses."  
  
"We like it when you talk dirty, Crawford!" another voice shouted out. There was some general snickering.  
  
Crawford raised his eyebrows and then shook his head, smiling to himself. "I asked that you soldiers converge here this evening so that I might welcome you, personally, to your new home. Welcome to Vietnam, welcome to the Mekong River Delta, and welcome to Pang Nuan. You are all here for one reason, to give your lives for the lives of your fellow man. No, for democracy! For all the Gook babies who don't eat at night and the Gook women who cry themselves to sleep because their babies are dying." The speech crept from the corners of his mouth like smoke, so see through were his words. But the languid way with which he said them, the casual, anti enthusiasm with which they were delivered let us know that he knew this. It told us he was on our side, he was as undiluted by the war as the rest of us, he didn't believe his own words. Here he'd paused and swayed, rubbing his temples. "This is what they told you at the recruiting stations, anyway. If you ask me, it's a crock of shit."  
  
The bleachers burst into sudden, deafening applause, shouts and screams cut the thick, muggy air. A large mosquito landed on my arm. I killed it. The first thing I killed in Vietnam was a mosquito.  
  
"What," Crawford said, continuing slowly, "we are really fighting this war for is a mystery. The reasons we allow ourselves to be marched around in swamps, eaten alive by insects, blow apart, captured, tortured, shot, dismembered, and infected with any number 'rare' and incurable diseases are not revealed to us on any terms we understand. Most of you are here because you have bad luck. Unlucky numbers were drawn and the next thing you knew you were on a plane with a new suit and a new haircut. We are fighting a war for a group of people who do not want our help and who look down upon our assistance, so why do we bother? Politics, I'm sure. We don't ask. The big man says we march and we do. But what about our babies and our women? Who will bring food to them and who will comfort them when they cry at night in their grief if all of their men have given their lives for others?" Again Crawford paused, tucking his hands into his pockets, he tipped his head back and swayed on his feet.  
  
No one had looked at anyone else, choosing instead to remain alone with their own thoughts. I toyed with my dog tags, thinking how I did not have to worry about any child or woman left alone. I probably never would. Vaguely I wondered if Fujimiya did.  
  
"And yet," the Lieutenant Commander continued at length, "we have little choice in the matter. Go AWOL, get discharged if you can, or maybe you could have run away to Canada before you got this far, bit late for that now."  
  
The thought of Canada made my cheeks flush, and I looked down at my feet. For a moment I became lost in my personal thoughts, my memories, my regrets. The reason I was in Vietnam was in Canada. I closed my eyes and listened to the strange sound of Lt. Commander Crawford's voice as it worked its slow spell over the gathered men.  
  
"No, boys, I'm afraid to say that you're stuck here. But we can't leave all those American women and babies left alone to cry, now can we? And that's where my job comes in. See, it's your job to be willing to give your lives, but it's my job to keep you alive. Remember that when I give my orders and when you receive the orders of your company leaders. Welcome to Pang Nuan Base, soldiers. Now go get drunk and play with a ball, or whatever it is you lowlifes do for fun. I have paperwork to finish."  
  
The men on the benches erupted into shouts again, raising fists and slapping each other on the back. The odd spell had been broken, and it was pretty obvious that getting drunk and playing with a ball was pretty high on the list of things to do. I wondered absently who supplied the booze. the army?  
  
Crawford gave us all a halfhearted salute and then ambled off the field, adjusting his glasses.  
  
The air was filled with a tense expectancy as the benches began to clear out. I heard Lt. Kudou's clear voice ring out over the sound of milling men.  
  
"I want the 37th armored infantry to dismantle and stow that atrocity, now! That's an order, soldiers."  
  
I'd glanced around, looking for the source of his voice and noted with some curiosity that he was standing beside Ran Fujimiya in such a way that it seemed obvious that they had been conversing. He was pointing up at the bleachers. I could only assume that they were about to be dismantled by the 37th armored and so rose to vacate the premises. For some reason I kept the Lieutenant and Fujimiya in sight, watching them out of the corner of my eye as I made my way over the benches. Kudou turned back to the tense looking man and said something which actually made him smile. The change that came over his face was amazing. Even from as far away from them as I was I could tell that he looked like an entirely different person. I was surprised when Kudou clapped him on the shoulder and then turned away, scanning the field. It seemed that Fujimiya was selective in his coldness. then again, Kudou was our commanding officer. I wondered if even Fujimiya felt obliged to keep the man in good humor. But it didn't seem as if Fujimiya was really the kind of guy who cared.  
  
"Oi, Hidaka! There you are, just the man I wanted to talk to." The voice of the Lieutenant cut my thoughts apart.  
  
As I stepped over the last bench I turned to greet him, but his arm was already slung around my shoulder, hauling me away again before I could begin to open my mouth.  
  
"Come have a smoke with me, pilot."  
  
"Er. I don't smoke, sir," I said hastily, pulling on his arm in an attempt to stop him from choking me.  
  
"No? Good for you, it'll make your life here a lot less expensive I can tell you that! Well, come and sit with me on a pile of wood while I smoke then. You didn't want to play foot ball anyway, right?" he chirped, grinning at me brightly.  
  
"Er. no. Sir." I was actually looking forward to working off some of my anxiety, but there was nothing for it now.  
  
"That's what I thought. Stupid game. Just chasing a bunch of guys around and slamming into them and rolling around in the mud. Might as well play 'smear the queer.'"  
  
I tried to think of something to say, but couldn't. Lt. Kudou's arm was beginning to feel heavy around my neck.  
  
The 'pile of wood' that Kudou advised me to sit on with him was situated at the far end of the training field. It was actually a pile of beams left over from the camp's construction. He perched on top of them and immediately lit a cigarette, taking a long, even drag, exhaling into the graying sky.  
  
"Smoke keeps the bugs away. That's why I think most of the guys here start smoking. Keeps the bugs away," he's looked over at me with intense green eyes and smiled dimly. He patted the beams, pulling his legs up to his chest. "Have a seat, Hidaka, but don't wiggle around. You don't want to know what lives under this pile."  
  
I eyed the pile warily and then sat down beside the Crew Chief, following his suit, wrapping my arms around my legs.  
  
"So. you got settled then?"  
  
I thought back to the confrontation in the barracks.  
  
"More or less," I answered.  
  
"That's good. So. Talk to me, Hidaka. You're the newest member of my company, and the only guy I don't know shit about. Tell me about you."  
  
I'd glanced up at him, and remembering Ran Fujimiya's words on the subject of getting to know people, blurted out, "Why do you want to know?"  
  
Kudou looked at me, his eyes furrowed, and then blew a stream of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Because if you die tomorrow, somebody has to remember. I'm your Crew Chief, it ought to be me."  
  
His words struck something inside of me. If I died tomorrow.. I could have died the next day and it really wouldn't have mattered. There was no one left who cared anymore, I'd made sure of that before I left home. That's why I was here after all. But looking at Lieutenant Kudou I was surprised and a little frightened at how much I wanted someone to remember, and how glad I was that it would be him. Suddenly I wanted to tell him everything.  
  
Instead I opened my mouth and said, "What do you want to know?"  
  
He'd smiled and taken another drag. "Where were you born?"  
  
"San Francisco Bay area. My mother and father were both Nisei.,"  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
"They were first generation Japanese Americans. Their parents emigrated from Japan in the twenties. My mother's family settled in San Fran and my father's family went to the Seattle area."  
  
"That's quite a distance, how'd they ever hook up? Match maker or some shit?"  
  
I could tell that Youji wasn't quite sure if he should say that jokingly or not. It was odd. It was obvious from Youji's name that he was at least partly Japanese himself, but he seemed completely ignorant of his own culture.  
  
I blinked at him and then turned my face away. "No. They met in a Japanese interment camp in Northern California during World War II."  
  
The silence that followed was thick and expected. "Aw, that's shitty, man. I heard that the States did that. Hard to believe. They give good talk about democracy and all that, but. real shitty thing to do to American citizens."  
  
"Yeah. But hey, if they hadn't I wouldn't be here, I guess."  
  
"That's one way to think about it. So what else about you? You got a girl back home? Any dogs, brothers, sisters, other family members in the war?" Youji pressed.  
  
For a moment I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to tell him all about the girl at home, all about my family, the reason I was at war with no reason to be there. I wanted him to hear about how much crap they were. For just a moment I desperately wanted someone to understand. But I knew Youji Kudou probably wasn't the guy to tell. He wasn't the guy who was going to understand. I wasn't going to find that guy. Guys get kicked out of the military for being 'that guy.' So instead of telling him all about Yuriko Asakawa, the 'nice Japanese girl' who'd always been my mother's favorite, I just shook my head. "No, not really. I don't talk to my family much these days. Older brother, older sister, no one special waiting at home. That's about it."  
  
Youji'd turned his head, his cigarette dangling from his lip and had given me a lazy eyed look. "That's it? So tomorrow if you die, I'll just say, 'Ken Hidaka? Yeah I remember him. Japanese kid from San Fran. Had a family. That's about it.'?"  
  
"Sadly," I said, smiling at him, "that is about it."  
  
"Well.," he drawled languidly, "suit yourself, but I can tell there is a lot more you're not telling me. Don't tell me if you don't want to," he said hastily holding up his hands, "but remember. If you die tomorrow, that's all that's gonna get passed on."  
  
I smiled. This thought comforted me. It wouldn't be so bad to just be some Japanese kid from the bay area.  
  
We sat in silence, Kudou smoking his cigarette slowly, as I watched as the training field filled up with men. They moved about, horsing around with each other, laughing and joking, pushing and shoving until somewhere a whistle blew and something organized began to happen.  
  
"Can you tell me anything about any of them?" I asked finally, waving my hand vaguely at the field.  
  
"Sure can. I know almost every man at this base, and I know everyone in 326th real well. Ask and you shall receive."  
  
I scanned the field, searching for the shocking orange hair of my fellow pilot. I found him eventually, tossing a ball up into the air, conversing snidely with a group of scruffy looking soldiers.  
  
I pointed. "Let's start with Max Wolff."  
  
"Max Wolff?" Kudou seemed to roll the words around in his mouth, trying to figure out where they fit. "Ah! You mean Schuldich, right? Ha, I forget the guy's got a real name. Schu. Schu. Schu. where to start?" He paused for a moment.  
  
"Why not start with his nickname," I suggested, sitting back.  
  
"Ha! Why not? It's German for 'guilty'. I asked Schuldich about it once and he told me that his 'Oma' called him that because he was such a bastard of a little kid. If something went wrong at his house she'd just scream, 'Schuldich!' and since he usually was, the name just stuck. But here the only thing Schu is guilty of is being a one cocky son of a bitch, and rightfully so, he's the best pilot this army's got as far as I'm concerned. He's guilty of that and killing a damned lot of Gooks.  
  
"His grand parents immigrated right before the start of WWII, settled in New York state. Two generations later you have Schuldich. That's really all I know about the guy. He has a huge family though. Something like ten brothers and sisters. He's a good guy to keep on your side."  
  
I nodded slowly. I guess that made sense. I was pretty glad to have Schuldich on my side for the time being anyway. I noted that Jei Farfarello was now standing at Schu's elbow. I pointed him out next.  
  
"What the deal with Farfarello?"  
  
Lieutenant Kudou snorted at this and snubbed out his cigarette on the top of the plank he was sitting on.  
  
"Jei? He's crazy. Period, end of sentence, that guy was dropped one too many times as a baby. His family's from New York City, part of the Irish mafia. The guy's a nut ball, but one hell of a gutsy door gunner. And he's still alive, so who am I to say he doesn't have the secret in his pocket? He's been flying with Schuldich for over six months now. That's a long time for a door gunner and single pilot to work together. Usually you get transferred around or one of you ends up dead, but not those two." Kudou shook his head.  
  
"What's up with his hair?" I asked, smiling wickedly.  
  
Kudou burst out laughing and reached for another cigarette. "That's the first thing I noticed too. It's some kind of recessive Irish trait, I guess. Some people of Irish descent start to go gray when they are in their late teens early twenties. Isn't that weird. Their hair just goes. poof! And it's all white. He's another one to keep on the good side of. Especially since you have to bunk near him. I would not want that crazy mother fucker watching over me in -my- sleep I can tell you that."  
  
I had to laugh and so I did. It felt good to laugh out loud. Youji joined me and for a few moments we just sat, laughing together for no real reason. It confirmed our humanity. When we were done I sighed heavily and watched as Kudou lit up his next cigarette.  
  
I waited for a few moments before searching out the lean figure of my bunk mate and door gunner. I could not find him anywhere amongst the other soldiers, so instead of pointing him out I simply said, "What's the deal with my door gunner, Ran Fujimiya?"  
  
Lt. Kudou took an extra long drag on his cigarette, exhaling in one long, steady stream. "What's the deal with Fujimiya?" he said quietly, more to himself than to me. "That is an interesting question, Ken Hidaka, and I was wondering if you'd been here long enough to ask it. I guess you have."  
  
"I don't mean to be rude, sir," I broke in.  
  
Kudou had just waved his hand dismissively and taken another drag on his cigarette.  
  
"It's just that he's a little. cold, hostile or something. He practically got in a fistfight with Farfarello when they introduced us. It was odd. I don't remember exactly what Farfarello was saying to the guy, but whatever it was really rubbed him the wrong way."  
  
Kudou nodded. "Yeah I heard about that. Farf likes to stir the shit to make it stink. He's just that kinda guy."  
  
"What shit is there to stir, sir?"  
  
Kudou had chuckled at this and leaned back on his arms. "What shit is there to stir? When it comes to Ran Fujimiya, there's a lot of shit and it all stinks. The thing is, kid, the guy's cursed. Jinxed. See, door gunners have an average shelf life of something between four and six months. If they don't get shot dead or shot out of commission by then it's an act of God, something to celebrate, and you can sure as spit put money down that they won't last out the year. At least that's how it usually goes. Wanna take a gander at how long Ran Fujimiya has been flying as a door gunner?"  
  
I shrugged, watching Youji's green eyes as he talked. Half the story seemed to be there.  
  
"Two years," Kudou said slowly, and then took another drag. "Two years is a fucking amazing amount of time for -anyone- to last out here who doesn't have stripes on their shoulders. It is an -insane- amount of time for a door gunner to last."  
  
"So, he's cursed because he never gets shot out of the sky? Doesn't sound like such a bad thing to me."  
  
Kudou shook his head and slapped absently at a mosquito. "That's not the real issue. The real issue is that a pilot is expected to live through usually two or three door gunners before he's moved to flying freight or whatever. Fujimiya has outlived every single one of his pilots. Six men, pilots, who do -not- have that high of a death rate, have died in crash and burn missions, all of which he has walked away from. Every single pilot that has flow Ran Fujimiya has not just crashed the chopper or been wounded or put out of commission, oh no, they have all died. The story goes that one of the pilots he flew with was his best friend, some guy he'd know his whole life. Grew up with him and all that shit. Yuushi Matsumoto or Makimachi or Miagi or something like that. Anyway, so he insisted on becoming Ran's new pilot despite Ran's protestations, and sure enough he died in some fluke accident during a retrieval mission. Fujimiya blamed himself for the guy's death. That was three pilots ago, but he's been fucked up ever since and his pilots haven't stopped dying."  
  
The last words hung in the air for a few minutes and my eyes locked with the Lieutenant's.  
  
I swallowed and blinked my eyes. "Well. is he some sort of psychopath who purposefully causes the deaths of his pilots or something?" I asked nervously.  
  
Kudou waved his hand dismissively and snickered. "God no! The guy's just cursed, kid, that's all. I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't wish any ill will on you, Hidaka, you seem like a great guy, but as far as Ran and the 326th is concerned you're probably already dead. If Ran seems a little cold to you, it's just that he's been burned one time too many by making it nice with his pilot. After a while when they all keep dying. you just don't set yourself up for that. In fact you go and do the opposite. He'll do his best to alienate you, and it's highly likely that the others will do the same. At least until you've proven yourself to be a survivor."  
  
I stared out at nothing and felt the strangest sense of acceptance. It seemed so ironically right that I, a man who cared nothing for living, had become among my peers the most likely to die. I understood that I would be an outcast among the 326th and I found this, too, fitting. I also realized that the pseudo interest of Schuldich and Farfarello was probably no more than just some morbid fascination. Oddly, this did not bother me.  
  
I felt the weight of Kudou's hand on my head as he ruffled my hair. I remember thinking that I ought to be insulted at being patronized, but never managed to feel anything but warmth. "Don't let it get you down, Ken."  
  
I shrugged. "I'm used to being an outcast. I don't mind. I guess if I die, then I'll do what they expect and they'll get over it. And if I don't, mores the better."  
  
"You're a weird kid, Hidaka. You sure you don't want a smoke?"  
  
I just shook my head and got up off the beam pile. "No, I don't smoke, but thanks anyway. I think I'll head to bed."  
  
He smiled and turned his green eyes to the training field. "Suit yourself. Good night then, soldier."  
  
I waved absently and headed off towards the barracks. It felt good to finally know my place.  
  
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PS. I forgot to mention it, but that genetic trait Youji went into about Farf's hair. it's true! This is a real recessive trait that is prominent in people of Irish descent. I have a really good friend who is like this. Her hair went white when she was twenty!! So just didn't want anybody to think I was making weird shit up. Fact is stranger than fiction! 


	3. First Out

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Wei( or anything like that. So no suing cause I make no profit from this.  
  
Comments: Here's part three. It's a bit dark, but I like it that way. Stuff actually happens! Whee. I can't actually think of anything interesting to say here. Damn. Oh, you'll notice that a lot of the original characters (or at least names that are mentioned) are nicknames. A lot of the time soldiers went by weird nicknames instead of their actual names, so that is reflected here I guess. And another thing I just remembered. Yuushi (mentioned in chapter two and here) is an actual character from Wei(, sorta. According to the official Wei( Kruez universe time-line or whatever, Ran was in another Kritiker group called the 'Crashers' before he was in Wei(. Yuushi was his teammate in the Crashers. Somewhat little known fact, I guess. Enjoy! Please. R&R!!  
  
Notes:  
  
I could only think of one. "Section Eight" mean clinically insane, unfit to serve.  
  
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Leaving the field behind me, I wondered why I hadn't thought to ask the lieutenant any questions about himself. Outwardly he seemed easy going, perhaps even slightly aloof, but I felt that beneath the surface deeper currents flowed. Youji Kudou was a man who kept parts of himself secret. Takes one to know one. I wondered after his relationship with Fujimiya, and then brushed that train of thought aside. It wasn't worth the effort.  
  
Our barracks had been empty that first night when I decided to turn in early. I'd already missed mess, but I wasn't hungry anyway. All I wanted to do was get my few belongings in order and then crawl beneath my military issue blankets and fall into what I hoped would be a reviving sleep. The weariness that was setting in my bones made me feel as if I was being pulled towards the ground. All I wanted to do was sleep.  
  
My footfalls were the only sound as I made my way down the corridor of bunks, feeling strangely enclosed in the dark, ramshackle barracks building. If not for the fact that my bag was still unpacked and sitting on the end of my bunk I might not have been able to remember which one was mine. Everything seemed to look exactly the same.  
  
I yanked open my duffel bag and began to take out my belongings. I eyed the footlocker at the base of the bed and wondered if it was locked, knowing half of it was mine to use. I began to make three piles. Things that went in the footlocker, things that went under the bed, and things that would remain in the duffel bag. I don't know why I felt it necessary to organize my things in this way. I could have simply left it all in the bag, since it fit there perfectly anyway. I began to wonder if I was becoming obsessive-compulsive. I'd read somewhere that the unpredictable nature of war sometimes drove men to obsessive levels of controlling behavior. I smiled to myself and shoved the thought away. I hadn't been at war long enough to become obsessive-compulsive. I then wondered if I was becoming a hypochondriac. and wondered if thinking you were a hypochondriac clinically made you one. Five minutes later I realized I was on the verge of driving myself insane, and quickly cleared my mind by humming "California Dreaming" as loudly as I could until there was no other sound in my head except that of my own voice resonating through my bones.  
  
As I bent down, shoving my belongings beneath the bunk, still humming loudly, I heard something beneath the bed topple and spill. I cursed, laying flat, trying to squeeze myself under the bunk to see what damage I'd caused. A shoebox had toppled from where it must have been perched on top of Fujimiya's spare boots. The top had of course fallen off and pieces of paper and photographs were scattered around on the rough boards beneath the bunk. As I cursed again, still humming, I thought of what a stupid place the top of a pair of boots was to put a box full of photographs.  
  
I began the task of rounding up the loose pieces of paper, righting the box and dragging it out from under the bunk beside me. As I picked up each glossy print I couldn't help but glance at the pictures, even though doing so made me feel uncomfortable, as if I was a spy. I tried to close my eyes and pay no attention to the images that passed through my hands, but in the end it was no use. I noticed that the face of a pretty young girl showed up several times. She had dark hair in thick braids and a very bright smile. Pictures of back home. I wondered where exactly home was for Fujimiya. I wondered who that pretty girl was to him. There were also a few photographs of men from other places he'd been stationed during the war. One in particular caught my eye. It was a group shot of five men leaning against an UH-1. For a moment I wondered if they had all been friends of Fjuimiya's until I realized that one of them was Fujimiya. He was smiling broadly, his arm slung around a tall, light haired man's neck, the other rested on his hip. After staring at it for a few seconds I realized why I hadn't recognized him at first. It was his eyes. In the photograph they appeared alive, they smiled with the rest of his body. The man who slept above me didn't have living eyes. His eyes were flat and empty. The picture in my hand must have been from when he first arrived in Nam. The thought made me shiver, and I forced myself to hum a little louder.  
  
My hand had come to rest on a folded piece of paper, which I quickly grabbed, stuffing the group shot into the box and out of my mind, and lifted it off the ground. Another piece of paper, thicker, glossy, obviously another photo slid from between the folded sheets and landed on the floorboards. I grumbled and reached for it, know I would have to put it back. I saw something written on the back in a dark, determined hand.  
  
"Because I always loved you best - Yuushi"  
  
Unable to quell my curiosity and feeling doubly the spy I flipped the photograph over. The hum slowly died in my throat, leaving a silence behind that rushed through my ears. I tried to breathe deeply, but my breath was gone. The photograph was a black and white print of a young man sprawled, completely naked, on a rumpled bed. His eyes were closed, one hand brushing up against his cheek, the other caressing himself tentatively. I could hear the sound of blood rushing in my ears as my cheeks flushed and burned. I flipped it over again and read the inscription on the back, just to make sure I had read it correctly the first time, before turning the photograph over once again and returning to stare at the prostrate body of the man on the bed. I had to admit that he was beautiful, and I wondered who had taken the picture, what the circumstances had been. I wondered if the taker had been Ran or if the picture had been taken -for- him. As I stared at his face I realized with a start that he was the same man from the group shot by the UH-1. The man Fujimiya had his arm around. I swallowed hard, thinking about what it meant.  
  
Almost of their own accord I felt the fingers of my other hand sliding the folded piece of paper open. I let my eyes dodge over a few lines and felt my face grow hotter. Love letters I had read, but this was something else entirely. From what I scanned it became clear that the man in the photographs, Yuushi, was not only Ran's best friend, but his lover. They had come to Nam together when Ran had been drafted, not wanting to be apart. He was the man Youji had mentioned earlier that evening, the best friend pilot who's death Fujimiya blamed on himself. I thought how much more guilt he must have felt knowing that the only reason Yuushi had been in Vietnam in the first place was because of his draft. The story began to sound vaguely familiar, and I felt myself becoming queasy. I thought of Canada and Yuriko Asakawa and Kase.  
  
"Hidaka?"  
  
The sound had broken in through my thoughts, ripping apart all the images that collided with each other behind my eyes. I gasped, realizing that the voice belonged to Fujimiya and reflexively jerked my head up, ready to get to my feet. I had of course forgotten that I was halfway wedged beneath a bed. The force of with which my head contacted the beams of the lower bunk was alarming. My ears began to ring with such a force that I began to doubt whether I had even heard Fujimiya's voice.  
  
I cried out sharply and crumpled to the floor, clutching my head and moaning.  
  
"Jesus Christ, what are you doing under there?" his cold voice shot through the ringing in my ears.  
  
I groaned and hastily began to put the picture and paper back together, talking as I did so, hoping he would not hear the sound of paper sliding on paper. "I. I was putting my things under the bunk. I tipped your photo box off of your boots or something and it spilled. I was trying to pick up all the pictures. ugh. ow, my head. I wish you hadn't surprised me like that," I grumbled. Getting angry somehow made me feel less guilty. I wanted to cover up the shame I was feeling at having pried.  
  
"Oh. You want me to get them?"  
  
"No," I snapped sliding my hand over the boards, pushing the last few pictures out from under the bed in one sweep. I made sure that the letter was among them. Fujimiya bent beside me and carefully put the photos back in the box as I pulled myself from beneath the bunk. Getting to my knees I watched him do so and noticed how his hand lingered over the letter.  
  
His eyes narrowed as he caught me looking and I snapped my head away from him hastily, getting to my feet. My head spun, making me sick and dizzy. I sank down onto the edge of my bunk and cradled my head in my hands, rocking back and forth. I told myself that the ache in my head and the fogginess that was playing at the edge of my thought process was just the whack I had given myself on the bottom of the bunk. But I knew that at least half of it was my mind still trying to wrap itself around what I now knew about Fujimiya. The whole episode made my head spin.  
  
I heard Ran slide the box back under the bed. It was loud in my ears and I groaned squeezing my eyes shut.  
  
"Are you ok?" there was no concern in the voice. It was simply a question.  
  
I forced myself to look up. Fujimiya was standing over me, looking at me with his stern, flat eyes. I nodded and put my head back in my hands. "Yeah, I'll be fine."  
  
"Are you sure? Your face is all red. You might have a concussion."  
  
I blushed a little more, knowing the real reason for my flushed cheeks. "It's ok. I'm just a little hot. I'm going to bed now anyway."  
  
I felt him shrug and then swing himself up into his bunk, the bed sagging just slightly as he pushed off beside me. "Suit yourself, Hidaka. It would just be a real shame if you died of a concussion in your sleep before you even got to see some action."  
  
Yeah, and you wouldn't be able to take credit for it then, I'd thought to myself. I didn't way it out loud and was glad. I didn't even know why I'd thought it.  
  
I sat on the edge of my bed for a few more minutes, listening as the sound of turning pages from the bunk above me. I shifted and lay back, tucking my hands under my head. I thought for a few moments before I said anything.  
  
"Hey, Fujimiya?" I called softly.  
  
The turning of pages stopped and there was a momentary pause. "What?"  
  
"I just wanted to let you know that I maybe I understand. And I don't care if I die here."  
  
"..."  
  
"I don't have anything left to live for. That's why I'm here. I know you said you didn't want to know anything about me. but I just thought I'd let you know that I don't care if I die. So if I do. don't feel bad about it."  
  
There was another pause and then a page turned quietly. "I didn't plan to."  
  
I smiled through my headache and wondered what Ran Fujimiya used to be like. "I'm glad we got that straight then."  
  
I fell asleep in my clothes and didn't wake up covered in a blanket by some caring, unseen hand. I hadn't expected to.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
The sudden blare of a horn jolts me back into reality as I step away from the curb. A car races past as I stumble backwards, narrowly avoiding being hit. A spray of water from the street adds insult to injury, covering me with a grimy dampness. Banzai barks frantically from the sidewalk.  
  
Shaking my head the world slowly oozes back into focus. Street lights and power poles, stop signs and roadways all emerge from the fog in my head. I blink as I step back onto the sidewalk, one hand trailing over my dog's head, assuring him that I am alright. He whines and licks my hand. I wonder if I should have taken that third pill after all. There's nothing for it now.  
  
"Come on, boy," I say softly, starting off down the street, pulling my jacket closed against the dampness in the air. I wipe one hand across my brow, hoping to get rid of some of the street grime that car spit on me.  
  
It isn't far from my house to the store. I cover the distance in about ten minutes when I'm not hurrying. I've worked at the grocery store for almost two years now. It really isn't all that much of a job, but I don't really need one. Not with my government check every month. Besides with just me, Banzai, and The Cat I don't have that many bills to pay. It would be a lot worse if I had to pay for my own meds. heaven forbid.  
  
I walk around to the back of the building, letting myself and my dog in through the back door. As it slams shut behind me I hang my jacket on a peg and reach for one of the aprons lined up against the back wall. Banzai trots ahead, past the stack of boxes that never moves to his bed in the corner. I follow after him, peering into darkness of the storage room. I wonder why there are no lights on. "Mare?"  
  
A figure emerges from nowhere, looming in the darkness just beyond my line of sight. Something inside of me tweaks, my breath comes faster, my body tenses. The shape shifts, dodges and then begins to move towards me. I know my fear is irrational. I really should have taken that last pill.  
  
A light flashes up into my face and I nearly scream, covering my eyes and sinking to the floor. The light stays with me.  
  
"Kenny? That's you, enit?" the strong, womanly voice calls out to me.  
  
I gasp, feeling my senses return. I blink rapidly and look up, trying to focus. "Jesus, Mary, don't scare me like that. I get flashbacks and shit, woman," I say, relief leaking out of the corners of my mouth.  
  
"Pish. Me scare you? I thought you were burglarizing me. You're early."  
  
"I have the dog with me, Mare. I couldn't be anyone but me."  
  
"Oh. I didn't see the dog. Well get your scrawny butt off my floor and help me find the circuit breaker. Friggin' lights went out again. The fuse must be blown," she grumbles angrily swiveling the light away from me.  
  
I get to my feet and finish tying my apron on, moving across the floor until I bump gently against Mary's body. It feels nice to touch something alive in all the gloom.  
  
"Don't get cheeky with me now," Mary grunts.  
  
I chuckle. "Don't worry, Mare, I'd just as soon get cheeky with my own mother."  
  
"Speaking of which," Mary snaps, moving away from me. Oh great here we go. "Your mother called here this morning at five AM. I told her that the store doesn't open until ten and that descent people don't get up until around eight. I told her to call you at home next time she feels like chatting at five in the morning. I don't know what gets into that woman's head. I wish you'd just call her, Ken, I really do. I think I've talked to your mother more in the past two year than you have."  
  
I sigh. "Oh, I know you have, Mare. Because I haven't talked to her since I got home from Nam."  
  
I can feel Mary pause in the darkness and feel her sigh into the thick air. "I wish you wouldn't, Ken. I know what it's like to lose a child to Nam. it's cruel to make your mother carry that same weight when you're still alive."  
  
I wish I could melt into the darkness. "My mother didn't lose me to Nam, Mary. My mother lost me long before."  
  
Then the light is in my face again and I can feel Mary's large, solid hand brushing the hair from my eyes. "Oh, Kenny. You're too young to have a heart that's already burnt out. Don't be like that. Call your mother. And for God's sake stop taking those damn pill Doctor Craig keeps giving you!" She snaps the last sentence and then whacks my forehead with the heel of her hand.  
  
I chuckle and step back, fending her off. "Alright, alright."  
  
The light turns away from my face and I see her form shift and move away across the floor. "Yeah, sure. You'll never listen to me. Heaven forbid you ever listen to someone older and wiser. Young people. You think you know everything."  
  
My eyes are flooded with light as Mary finds the fuse box and flips the switch. The electric whine of fluorescent lights begins a repetitive din in my ears. I wince for a moment and then force my watering eyes to open and take in the storage room. So many boxes. All freight that needs to be unpacked. I sigh. I glance at Mary across the room where she is standing triumphantly beside the breaker box. She is tall and stocky. Not a petite woman by any standard, but she has a good heart and a pretty face. At least I think she must have had a pretty face when she was younger. She's my mother's age now, her kinky red hair run through with streaks of white. She grins at me broadly.  
  
"Well, Ken, you're early. Such a good boy. Now why don't you start getting those boxes unpacked so we can stock the store? I've got to go out front and do the tills. Ken? Sweety, you're looking a little bleary today. are you feeling alright?" she asks suddenly, coming towards me.  
  
I think of the car that almost ran me over in the street and of the picture in my wallet and of my pills.  
  
"Yes, I'm fine. I just. didn't get much sleep last night that's all," I say quietly.  
  
She shakes her head. "Don't push yourself, kiddo. If you aren't feeling well, just let me know."  
  
I hate it when she looks at me like that, with those eyes that want to understand. Mary's son was killed in Vietnam. I didn't know him, but then again I didn't know a lot of guys who were killed in Vietnam. The army never gave her an official report of what happened, just let her know that he was dead. They did this to cover their tracks when they made mistakes or when men were killed in 'friendly fire.' In a way I think Mary likes to think of me as a replacement son, a warm body to try and look after. I appreciated her care and concern, but sometimes I just get so weary.  
  
Mary shakes her head and walks out of the back room. I turn and place my hand on the first of the boxes to be unpacked. Produce. Somewhere in the city sirens begin to sound. They echo down the streets and through the alleyways until they find me in the back room. Slowly the sirens begin to sound different. I think about the kid again. the kid. I have to remember. it started with the sirens.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
It had been weeks since I arrived at Pang Nuan base. For weeks we had been sitting on our hands waiting for missions, none came. There was a lull in the fighting, no new troops being sent in, no battered battalions being evacuated. Schu told me this was normal. It was feast or famine. During the rainy season we could be locked down at base for literally months while everybody laid low, too disheartened and uncomfortable because of the rain to actually do anything. I was getting tired of sitting around and doing nothing. The rest of the company save for Schuldich, Farfarello, and the Crew Chief seemed content to ostracize me for being most likely to bite the dust. None of which really bothered me all that much. I enjoyed the time alone, using it to reflect on what I had discovered about Fujimiya and how it might affect me. How he affected me. There was something about him. and it made me wonder.  
  
But that morning there was to be no more waiting. We woke up to the sound of blaring sirens. A call to arms. A call to stations. Before I even knew what was happening I was in my flight suit, racing towards the hangars, Fujimiya at my elbow and Schuldich with Farfarello leading the way. Kudou was waiting for all of us inside the main hangar. He motioned for the 326th to gather around him and began to dispatch orders.  
  
"We have a serious evacuation emergency on our hands. Several infantry companies are under heavy fire from Viet Cong snipers approximately two hundred kliks from here, I'll give you coordinates when you're airborne. The units have been on search and destroy missions, sweeping the jungle for over a month, suffice to say these boys aren't doing so hot. This morning they were ambushed by VC agents, and the word from above is that it is time to get those that are still kicking out of there. We have to exercise extra caution. The terrain is swampy and the canopy is thick. Finding descent landing spots is going to be tough. Gunners, you are going to have to pull your weight to keep on top of the snipers. That's it. Suit up. You know where your choppers are, you know who's flying co and who's flying jump, so get your asses out there and bring those boys home!"  
  
The men gave a collective whoop, clapping their hands together. The crowd of 326th members dispersed, crews hustling out to find their rides.  
  
"Hidaka, Schu get over here," Kudou barked as we turned to leave. We exchanged a glance and obeyed.  
  
"Sir?" we said together.  
  
Kudou pointed a finger at me. "This is your first time out. Jungle flying under fire is not the same as the simulated war crap you got back on the ranch. I want you to follow Shuldich close and stay in radio contact. If you start to get your legs don't be afraid to do your own thing, but on a mission like this it's gonna be best for you to watch and learn. That's it. Don't take stupid chances. any of you."  
  
We saluted and turned away, going to prepare for takeoff. Farf and Fujimiya were waiting for us and took pace as we passed them by.  
  
"Take care of him, Ran," I heard the lieutenant call, "I want that boy back alive."  
  
"Right."  
  
I'd glanced at Fujimiya and strangely enough he glanced back, seeming to give me a nervous smile. It passed so quickly I was never quite sure if I saw it or not, but for some reason just the possibility of it made me feel better.  
  
Sliding into my seat I jammed my helmet down over my ears, adjusting the headset frequency. I could hear Lt. Kudou talking on the other end. He was running check through the pilots.  
  
"Cue Ball?"  
  
"Clear."  
  
"Johnson?"  
  
"All clear."  
  
"Chicken Bone?"  
  
"Clear, sir."  
  
"Schuldich?"  
  
"Queer!"  
  
"Yes, yes, we all know, Schuldich." Even I had to snicker. "Hidaka?"  
  
I glanced around and suddenly noticed that I was not clear. "My co isn't here, sir."  
  
"What the hell? We don't have time for this.," I could hear the Lt. barking something to someone on the other end of the line. Then suddenly a panting figure came up on the chopper and lifted himself inside, plunking down beside me.  
  
"Swanny," I greeted him irritably.  
  
"Sorry, Hidaka. I'm your co. I got confused."  
  
"Lt. Kudou? I'm clear. Swanny just showed up," I said over the headset.  
  
"Thank god! Well, that's everybody. Here are the coordinates.."  
  
I followed Schuldich out of base, keeping close to his right. Every time I looked out the side window and over towards his UH-1 I could see Farfarello making faces at us from the doorway. Thinking of my own door gunner I stole a glance back at Ran who was perched behind the mounted machine gun. One hand rested easily on top of the mammoth instrument of death, the other dangled between his knees. It was odd how at home he looked, just squatting there, waiting for an excuse to shoot some Gooks. His dark eyes scanned the ground below us, searching for any hostile intent or possible sniper fire. Every once in a while he'd fire off a few shots, and I noted that the other helicopters did the same. I wondered if they were actually shooting at anything in particular or just shooting to discourage would be Viet Cong heroes.  
  
"We're coming up on the site. Check the fires, Hidaka," Schu's voice crackled over the headsets. I looked ahead, into the endless swamp and jungle and sure enough it seemed as if the whole mess had caught on fire. In reality the fires were small, a few spread from stray shelling, but to untrained, impressionable eyes like mine it seemed that we had descended on hell itself. The sky quickly became thick and dark with smoke and burning napalm fumes.  
  
"Fly low and slow. Watch for a place to land, don't worry about landing where there's a lot of men. They'll come to you. You just make sure you don't burst a fuel tank on some shit poking out of the ground. I've seen it happen. With the VCs out there you never want to land anywhere that looks too good to be true, because believe me it is," Schuldich said and then cut to radio silence. I felt alone.  
  
Swanny poked his head out the side window and scanned the ground for a place to land. Everywhere around us the sounds of helicopter blades slicing the air and gunfire was deafening. It took me a few moments to realize that the sound of gunfire was coming from our craft. Stealing a glance behind me I saw Ran crouching low over the gun, popping round after round off into the jungle. The smoke was making me dizzy.  
  
Out of nowhere an explosion erupted from the trees to our left. Flames and debris shot into the sky and the force of it rocked the UH-1 like a toy boat in a bathtub. I heard Ran grunt as he was knocked against the bulkhead. I hoped to God he hadn't been pinned by his gun. Swanny and I struggled to control the helicopter which was weaving sickeningly. It took a few moments but soon we were skimming the tops of the trees, scanning for a place to land again. Cold sweat slid from beneath my helmet, and my hands began to feel sticky. I could see men below us, waving their arms, screaming to be rescued, but there was no way I could get to them there. We had to find a decent landing site. Somewhere amongst all that muck and jungle there had to be a place.  
  
"There! There!" Swanny shouted pointing frantically out the window. "There's a spot. It looks like it might be a little hot, but it's the best we're going to find. Take us in Hidaka."  
  
"Roger."  
  
As I maneuvered the temperamental craft over the opening in the jungle that was hardly justifiable as a clearing Fujimiya worked over his gun like a man with no other purpose. He kept rounds going off at a steady, sweeping pace, scouring the trees around us, daring the VCs to show themselves. He'd have to keep us all covered while we loaded with men. I wondered absently why they hadn't put more guns on the damn thing.  
  
We landed and waited, wondering what happened next. I glanced nervously at Swanny who was holding his breath. Fujimiya motioned to us, still scanning the trees.  
  
Swanny left the seat at my side and went to crouch behind Fujimiya, I did the same, removing my flight gear.  
  
"What do you think?" Swanny said loudly to Fujimiya.  
  
"They'll be coming. And they'll be bringing Charlie on their tail," Fujimiya answered harshly.  
  
"Should we send up a flare?" Swanny continued.  
  
"No," I said. "That'll tell the whole damn jungle where we are. The last thing we want is Charlie here before we get any of our men out."  
  
Fujimiya nodded. "Pilot's right. Just sit tight and be ready to load when they start showing up. I have a feeling these boys are going to be in pretty bad shape."  
  
Ran fired off a couple more rounds for good measure. Swanny and I sat back, watching and waiting. We didn't have to wait long. We heard them first, shouting and screaming to one another, rifle fire just out of site. Then our men came out of the trees to our left and it seemed as if they brought all the smoke in the world with them.  
  
The first man reached the doorway out of breath, ragged, bloodied and torn. "Holy shit, thank god we found you guys or thank god you found us. We've got some bad wounded coming through, but Charlie's on our asses."  
  
"Just get in the chopper!" Ran grated, grabbing the man's shirt and hauling him up.  
  
There was another explosion from the trees and in a matter of seconds it seemed as if the chopper was over run by clawing, bloodied hands, screams and shouts. I felt like Jesus Fucking Christ being overrun at the temple. Each hand that reached out I reached back for, hauling every man I could touch up into the ship. The twitching, bloodied body of a soldier passed before me and on to Swanny, his comrade hoping up after him and taking the body in his arms to be cradled.  
  
"We're gonna get you out of here, Hollywood. Fucking eh, we are! You can hack it right, man?!" he screamed frantically.  
  
"Yeah. I can. hack.." I watched, horrified as the man twitched and convulsed one last time and then burbled over with his own blood as it welled up inside of him and came pouring out of his mouth in a red/ black flood. The man who was holding him began to scream his name and sob hysterically. Another man who was standing outside the chopper grabbed at the body.  
  
"He's wasted, man. Throw his ass out so we can fit the living inside!" the man yelled.  
  
The other soldier screamed and clung to the blood-covered body, sobbing and crying the man's name. Eventually the others, both inside and out, pried them apart and tossed the dead man's body back to the jungle. I watched all of this in horror, mechanically continuing to help more men into the hold.  
  
Eventually another man was passed by me. He was screaming at the top of his lungs. Just screaming and screaming. Both of his legs were missing, ragged, bloody strips of flesh dangled from stumps where the shrapnel had ripped through his body. A large black man took this one and propped him up in the back, trying to soothe him. But the man just kept on screaming. He would scream all the way back to base. The sound would ring in my ears forever.  
  
At last it seemed as if the chopper was full. I couldn't imagine fitting another broken and bloodied body in there. As I headed back to the pilot's seat someone cried out.  
  
"Where's the kid? Kid, are you here?"  
  
There was silence save for the screaming and the choked sobs of the man who's friend had died in his arms.  
  
"Shit, we're not leaving without the kid," the man said, moving towards the open doorway.  
  
Swanny leaned out from his seat. "We have to go! We're full. You said Charlie was on your ass we can't stay here!"  
  
"I'm not leaving without the kid, man! If you want to leave my ass here, fine, but I am going back out there and I am finding him!" the soldier yelled, his face contorted in rage and determination. Then he turned to me, his eyes pleading. "Pilot, look man, just give me two minutes. If I'm not back by then leave my ass, but I have got to find the kid. He's our fuckin' mascot, man!"  
  
A few other men nodded. The screaming man went on screaming, the crying man redoubled his efforts. I wished like hell that they would just shut- up.  
  
I looked from Swanny and then to Ran. He looked away. "You're in charge. It's your chopper."  
  
I hesitated, knowing I was wasting time. "Go. We'll wait, but not long. Ran keep us and him covered."  
  
The soldier nodded and then jumped out of the UH-1, disappearing into the smoke.  
  
The moments were tense. The smell of blood, fear, and unwashed bodies was making me sick. The air was thick with smoke and something else that made my eyes burn. I tried to drown out the sound of the man screaming in the back of my chopper but couldn't. I wasn't the only one.  
  
"Ahh!! I can't take it anymore! Somebody shut him the fuck up! Just kill him, at least then he'll be quiet," a starved looking man began to cry, trying to scrabble his way over the bodies to the back of the hold.  
  
"Settle down, Adams, you're acting like a fuckin' section eight! Aint nobody killin' nobody over no screamin'! Now sit yo ass back down before I throw you out of this Goddamned chopper!"  
  
"Argh," the man wailed. "Just make him stop screaming. I can't take it."  
  
"Everybody shut-up!" I yelled, unable to take anything anymore. "I can't even hear myself think. Instead of arguing with each other why don't you concentrate on keeping your eyes open for your companions. Jesus, just shut-up!"  
  
I caught a flash of Ran's dark eyes, but ignored them, leaning forward out of my seat, straining to see into the smoke. And then there it was, a shape looming from the haze. I gunned the blades, readying the craft for lift off. The air power swirled the smoke away from the helicopter like Moses parting the Red Sea. The soldier who had left the chopper a few minutes before was racing towards us, a smaller form slung over his shoulder.  
  
He handed the body up into the hold, five different pairs of hands reached out to receive the body and then cradled it gently. I gave the form a passing glance and noticed that one of his legs was a mass of blood, it appeared that his stomach was bleeding as well. All for nothing, I thought. The damn kid was gonna die anyway.  
  
"Hey, kid, can you hear me?" the man called as he hoisted himself into the chopper.  
  
"Yeah, I.hear you. Jefe," a surprisingly strong, but young sounding voice answered.  
  
"You can hack it can't you, kid?"  
  
"Sure, I can. hack it. Nothing. to. it."  
  
"Good, kid. Hold in there."  
  
With that I sent the blades rotating at top speed and lifted us out of there. Just as I pulled above the canopy line, a company of black pajama clad VCs entered the clearing. They gave off a few parting shots before I watched Ran waste every last one of them with the machine gun. I'd never seen anyone be shot by a machine gun before. I'd never imagined blood could really look like that. like a ribbon slicing the air.  
  
With this thought in mind, I started to hum "Rocky Raccoon" as loudly as I could, trying to drown out the screaming from the back of the chopper and in my own head, and turned us towards home. 


	4. I Wanna Hold Your Hand

Disclaimer: Oh God, not again.. Ok fine. Don't own 'em, don't profit from 'em, just use 'em cause it's fun.  
  
Comments: Dang! So demanding! "Update now, update now!" Don't you people know that I have a life?! Sheesh I didn't even bother to have this chapter beta'd. Ahem, ok now that that's over with. So far everyone seems to like this fic pretty well. Yay! And there was much rejoicing. Everyone keeps saying how sad it is..well yeah, such is life. I have a feeling that by the end you guys are really going to hate me though.. *sweatdrops* Maybe not.. I hope not. Eh hehe. For some reason FF.net is evil and some of my punctuation gets changed when I upload the story, so I made an attempt to compensate, so if it's really messed up in this one, I apologize. Anyway, hope you like it. Shime, you can stop stressing over whether or not Omi's in it, cause he is. Sheesh. Enjoy! R&R or else I will make much PAIN!! PAIN!!!  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
I felt and saw nothing. The sound of my own humming filled my ears and the world became nothing more than a blur of blue and green. My breath came short and I fought to keep the sweat from my eyes. Somewhere a man was screaming. Somewhere a man was crying. Somewhere a man rocked a young boy back and forth, uttering a steady mantra, "You can hack it, you can hack it, you can hack it, you can hack it.."  
  
I must have groaned. Somewhere in all the humming and crying and screaming I must have found my voice and groaned.  
  
"Shit, Hidaka, sit back, man. You're in bad shape," Swanny had said sharply, pushing my chest back. "I'll take the chopper, that's why I'm here."  
  
"The. the smoke," I gasped. "There was too much. smoke. My eyes sting."  
  
"Sure, man, sure. That's the napalm fumes. You'll get used to it after a few flights out, but just sit back man. First time like this messes with your shit, just sit back."  
  
I didn't want to sit back. I wanted to take us all home. I wanted to get that kid back to base, back to the infirmary. I wanted to get the screaming man something that would make him stop screaming and I wanted to bring the crying man's friend back to life. I didn't want Ran Fujimiya to see me go section eight. I didn't want to be that weak.  
  
"No, it's ok. I'm gonna be fine," I said thinly, trying to shake the spinning in my head.  
  
Swanny shoved me back into the seat hard and ripped my flight gear off my head. "I said sit back, Goddamn it! The lives of these soldiers depend on you, and you are not fit to fly right now. I'm taking the controls."  
  
I'd wanted to argue, but couldn't find the breath.  
  
"He's right, Hidaka. Give Swanny the stick. I'm not losing a pilot to his own damn machismo," I heard Fujimiya grumble.  
  
Closing my eyes I sat back and waited.  
  
The landing field was full of running, screaming people who were doing their best to be efficient. Stretchers were hauled about from helicopter to helicopter, and were wheeled away again towards the infirmary. The amount of morphine being tossed around was mind boggling. I remained in the pilot's seat waiting and listening as my helicopter was unloaded. I could hear Fujimiya helping to lift men out of the hold and direct them towards the infirmary, but I could not move.  
  
All the noise and movement made me even dizzier than I was to begin with. More helicopters took off. Second wave. The thought of going back out there made my breath come short. My hands shook.  
  
The hand on my shoulder made me jump. Fingers tightened painfully, holding me down.  
  
"Hidaka, get out of the chopper. We're not going up again," Fujimiya's deep, even voice said, calming me.  
  
I turned in my seat and looked up to meet his eyes. I wondered how much of my fear he could see there. Nothing showed on his face to let me know. I nodded dully, standing, moving into the hold. It was then that I smelled it. All the blood. The hold floor was covered in thick, slick blood. My head spun, and I lurched for the door, jumping down onto the grassy field below. More blood was smeared on the ground, and I felt the first heave in my stomach.  
  
I'd managed to weave only a few steps before my knees buckled, the image of the man who had practically thrown up his own guts in the hold of my chopper overwhelming me. I hit my knees, clutching my stomach as I retched, dry heaving onto the grassy field.  
  
"Hidaka!" It was unexpected, but I suddenly felt Fujimiya by my side, his hands supporting my shoulders, trying to pull me up.  
  
I wheezed and bent forward, my forehead brushing the ground, my hair sticking maddeningly to my face. "Jesus. Fujimiya. oh Jesus Christ.," I choked. "What. what the fuck? I can't. I. oh fuck." Before I knew what I was doing I began to weep, tears to make up for all the tears I kept inside let loose down my face and my body shook with the overwhelming power of my sorrow.  
  
"Hidaka, for the love of God, pull yourself together," Fujimiya growled, but his hands never became rough or impatient. I thought maybe he laid a hand on my back, but I couldn't be sure. I was too much of a mess. After a few moments I allowed Fujimiya to haul me to my feet and lead me away from the field, away from the sound of chopper blades and dying men. It wasn't until I hit my bed, still sobbing that I realized we were actually going anywhere specific. I hadn't even noticed.  
  
I'd shut my eyes against the tears, wanting them to stop, wanting the shaking and the images to stop, but it all just kept coming. I laid on my bed, feeling the presence of Ran Fujimiya hovering over me, and I wondered if it had been like this for him the first time he had gone out, the first time he'd wasted a group of men with a machine gun. More I wondered if it had been like this for his lover. Yuushi. Had he reacted like this to the horror of it all? Had Ran carried him back to their barracks? I wondered. I couldn't help but wonder.  
  
"What are you doing here, Hidaka?" I heard him hiss. I lay still, sucking back my tears. "Guys like you don't belong here. why the hell would they let a guy like you come to a hell like this? What the fucking hell are you doing in Nam?"  
  
I'd laughed without meaning to. The irony of his question was too much and I began to laugh at the sickness of it all. "Wouldn't you like to know," I whispered.  
  
He made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat and then walked away. His footsteps echoed in my mind even after he was long gone. The sound of footsteps was better than the sound of screaming.  
  
I don't know how long I slept, but it must have been hours. It was evening by the time I woke up, feeling weak but no longer exhausted. I could hear voices and music playing. I opened my eyes, slowly pulling myself up on my bunk. I looked around blearily and tried to blink away the sleep. I looked over at the bunk across from mine to see Schuldich and Farfarello talking to a few other soldiers, all huddled around their bunk. The music came from a small radio propped up on the floor.  
  
The music cut out. "And good evening to all our boys, be you in the field or wrapped up at base or tied down in some hospital somewhere. This is Liberty Livingston coming to you over US Military frequency 118 in conjunction with American Radio 88.8 KWIK bringing to you the soothing sounds of home and democracy before ten o'clock lock down. Today's casualty report will be coming in by the top of the hour, but before that, here's a little of the Mamas and the Papas."  
  
I blinked, trying to decide how I felt about having to listen to the Mamas and the Papas before hearing the names of all the confirmed US dead for the day. Nobody else seemed to care, hell nobody else seemed to even really be listening to the radio. I coughed and swung my legs over the side of my bunk, sitting up fully.  
  
"Hey, looks like the Jap's finally awake," I heard Jei intone callously. I did my best to glare at him angrily, but he only chuckled and got up, coming to stand over me, leaning against the top bunk. I looked up at him and he grinned back at me, his eyes wide and intense. I thought about what Kudou had said about him being crazy. At that moment I thought the lieutenant was probably right. "Things get a little intense out there? Yeah, all the blood and the yellin' and the smoke. Gets a lot of guys to thinking their first out."  
  
"Get back, Patty," Schu grumbled, coming to stand on the other side of me. He shoved Farf's chest over my head. "Don't give the newbie shit."  
  
"I aint giving shit. I'm just telling it how it is, you fuckin' Kraut," Farfarello snapped back, chuckling under his breath.  
  
Shuldich ignored him and looked down at me, smiling wolfishly. "You feeling better, newbie? I saved some shit for you from mess. Kudou let you sleep all day, you should feel privileged, cause it won't happen again. Don't feel too bad though, a lot of guys lose their nerve on their first out. I was used to flying freight before I had my first retrieval mission. Catches you off guard, but you'll get used to it. So are you hungry or what?"  
  
I realized that I was extremely hungry and touched my stomach, the dull ache there making me nauseous again. "Yeah, actually I'm starving," I'd said quietly.  
  
Jei laughed harshly and smacked me on the back. "Yeah, I'd imagine. Especially since you spewed what was already in there all over the landing field this morning!" He went on laughing.  
  
Schu smiled and snickered at the comment, ruffling my hair. "Like I said, kid, happens to a lot of guys. Don't sweat it. Maybe next time you'll just pass out instead of hurling, and then the time after that maybe just a slight headache. Before you know it you'll be flying this shit in your sleep. If you survive that long."  
  
I glanced up at him and then stood up, shrugging off both of their hands. "Gee, thanks."  
  
"Just telling it like it is, Hidaka. Anyway, if you want your food it's down in the infirmary," Shuldich went on.  
  
"The infirmary?"  
  
"Yeah, they closed down mess a couple of hours ago, so Kudou had it go to the infirmary cause he wants you to get checked out there anyway. This way if you want to eat you can't skip out on the check-up. He's terribly clever. At least he thinks so."  
  
"Why do I need to be checked out?" I asked warily, rubbing my head.  
  
Schu had simply shrugged and motioned to Farf. "I dunno. Kudou always has anyone who pulls a psych on a mission checked out. Just to make sure that it wasn't brought on by some sickness or that you aren't going to go section eight, that's all. He's a good Crew Commander.. he takes care of his own."  
  
We stood in silence for a few moments, looking at each other, thinking about the Crew Commander. Eventually I nodded and turned away from Schuldich and his sidekick. Without another word I left the barracks and made my way towards the infirmary. I wondered absently how crowded it was. I wondered if the majority of the wounded we'd brought in were still on base or if they'd been flown out to the big hospital camps. I figured the later. We didn't have the resources to take care of a lot of badly wounded men.  
  
Halfway across the base I ran into Fujimiya. He was coming back from somewhere, and for some reason I had the feeling that it was to talk to Lieutenant Kudou. I hailed him as we drew closer to each other.  
  
"Hey, Fujimiya," I called out.  
  
He paused and turned towards me. "You're finally up," he said flatly.  
  
I'd smiled weakly and shook my head. "Yeah, I guess I really got screwed up this morning. Seeing what I saw just set me off.. er.. thanks for looking after me."  
  
For a split second he looked uncomfortable and then turned his face away, so that I could no longer see. He shrugged and when he looked back at me he was passive again. "Don't thank me. There was enough confusion on that field. Leaving you there would only have made things worse."  
  
I nodded, wondering why I had expected anything more. "You really know how to make a guy feel better, Fujimiya. Thanks.. I appreciate it," I said sarcastically and then turned away in disgust, but whether it was directed towards him or myself was something I could not be sure of.  
  
As I walked away he paused for a moment and then called after me. "It isn't my job to blow sunshine up your ass, Hidaka. If you can't handle the shit you shouldn't be here, too many people's lives depend on you when you're out there."  
  
His words made me so angry. What right did he have to tell me where I should and shouldn't be? He didn't know anything about me or my reasons for being in Nam. He'd told me explicitly that he never wanted to know anything about me, so what fucking right did he have to judge me?  
  
On impulse I wheeled around and flipped him off, pausing just long enough to catch the look on his face, and then turned away, heading off without saying a word.  
  
It felt good to flip Fujimiya the bird. Way better than it probably should have, but I was in a better mood already for having done it.  
  
The infirmary was a large, rectangular building with concrete walls and a tin roof. It was almost as ugly inside as it was outside. Rows of hospital beds were lined up behind the nurse's station. Two emergency surgery units were set up in the way back, screened off from the rest of the room. There were three surgeons and five nurses stationed at Pang Nuan, just enough to take care of the minor and emergency stuff before the soldiers were moved on to bigger and better medical stations.  
  
I entered the building, pushing through the heavy, metal door and stopped in front of the nurse's station. The two nurses on duty, Manx Huntington and Sheila Birman, looked up at me and smiled. Since the other nurses were men they were the only women on base. Both were fairly pretty, although Manx was less classically so. She had obnoxious red hair and a bad attitude, but was always good for a laugh. Sheila, or rather Ms. Birman, was beautiful and a widow at the age of 23. Her husband was killed in service almost two years before I arrived in Vietnam. She had joined the Red Cross nursing corps in order to honor her husband's death. She never let any of the soldiers call her by her first name, but insisted that as a married woman she be referred to as Ms. Birman, just plain Birman if she held you in good graces.  
  
"Evening, pilot, you come for your dinner?" Manx asked me teasingly.  
  
I nodded. "This is where they sent me for it."  
  
"Alrighty then, but we're under strict orders to give you a thorough going over first," Manx went on, winking at me.  
  
I rolled my eyes. "Alright, but I warn you, I'm really hungry so I might be a little cranky about it."  
  
Manx giggled in her husky voice, elbowing Birman. "Promise, pilot?"  
  
Ms. Birman shot Manx a rather disgusted glance. "Don't you ever think about anything that doesn't involve a bed?"  
  
Manx chuckled. "Sure.. Just depends on how adventurous I'm feeling."  
  
Birman rolled her eyes again and stood up, adjusting her khaki uniform. She patted Manx on the head and motioned to me to come behind the station. "Why don't you just man the station, honey. I'll give Private Hidaka his check up."  
  
Manx chuckled again. "You always get to have all the fun."  
  
I shook my head and followed Ms. Birman back towards the rows of hospital beds. A few disjointed moans floated out from between the rows. The sound made my hair stand on end, but Birman didn't even bother to react. She hitched her thumb at a screened off section just behind the nurse's station. "Have a seat on the table, Private."  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
She chuckled softly and pushed my through the curtain. I hopped up onto the table as she reached for a tongue depressor. "Say 'ah.'"  
  
I stuck out my tongue and complied. I sat patiently as Birman went through the motions, looking down my throat, checking my pulse and heart rate, blood pressure, etc. It only took a few minutes. "Any dizziness or nausea?"  
  
"Not unless you count this morning," I said softly.  
  
She shook her head. "And I don't. Well you aren't sick. You don't have malaria or yellow fever or any other kind of bug that might make you.. ill. You just had a little case of traumatic shock that's all. Happens to a lot of soldiers the first time they come face to face with the brutality of it all. Guys with missing legs and spewing blood have an adverse effect on the psyche. You'll get used to it, don't worry and don't feel bad. I do have something I can give you to help you through the next few missions though. A lot of guys take it, so don't think that you're copping out or anything. It's just an anti-anxiety pill. It might make you a little drowsy when you first take it, but it'll .. keep you from stressing over what you see. Just make sure you take a pill -after- the mission is over."  
  
I blink at her and furrow my eyebrows. "What's in it?" I don't like the idea of taking medications.  
  
"Benzodiazepine. It won't hurt you. Just take it if you have trouble sleeping or feel anxious or stressed out for any reason. You don't want to get in the habit of just popping pills all day long, but it is a legitimate medication for you to take to help calm your nerves. M'k?" Birman said kindly, looking into my eyes. Something about nurses always made me feel better.  
  
I'd nodded, unable to think of any real reason why I shouldn't listen to her and then hopped down from the examination table, re-buttoning my shirt. Birman motioned for me to follow her back to the nurse's station.  
  
"The pills and your dinner are in the station. I hope you don't mind cold mystery meat," she chuckled, pushing open the door to the small, cramped box in which the nurses spent their time. The radio in the corner was playing the same station that had been playing back in the barracks. An overplayed Beatles song was coming through the speakers, Manx sang along, filing her nails.  
  
"'I wanna hold your haaand.. I wanna hold your hand..' So, is he gonna die or what?" she asked glancing over at us as we squeezed into the small space.  
  
"Nah, healthy as a horse. I'm just going to give him some Benzo and send him on his way," Birman answered as she pushed past Manx's chair and began to rummage through the huge shelf of drugs set against the back wall.  
  
Manx raised her eyebrows. "O-kay.."  
  
"What? What's that supposed to mean?" Birman snapped, not turning around.  
  
Manx looked at me and shrugged. I raised an eyebrow. "Nothing, I just don't think you need to give every guy who comes in here a complimentary prescription to Benzodiazepine. It's expensive and some people are allergic to it. Besides, it's probably addictive."  
  
"Addictive?" I'd asked.  
  
Birman shot Manx a dirty glance. "There is no proof of that whatsoever. Manx is just paranoid. Just take them in moderation. Yes, some people are allergic to it, so if you start to feel weak or disoriented or uncoordinated, bring them back. They won't kill you in any case. Here," she said shortly, tossing a glossy brown bottle to me.  
  
I held the bottle in my hand, turning it in the light of the nurse's station. There was no label and the pills inside were small and nondescript. I could never imagine then what I was holding in my hand, and how it would effect my life.. not so much during the war, but after..  
  
After a short conversation the nurses convinced me to sit and eat my left over dinner with them in the station. I felt kinda sorry for the poor girls, it must have gotten very boring in there, with just the two of them and the moaning sick. The food was less than impressive, but then again it always was. It did manage to make me feel better though, which is all I could have really hoped for at the time.  
  
"Anyway, I should probably get these dishes back to mess," I said getting up to leave after I'd finished.  
  
Manx shook her head. "Naw just leave them here. We'll take them back."  
  
"I can't ask you to do that," I'd protested.  
  
Ms. Birman swiveled towards me in her chair. "Believe me, with all the guys in here since this morning we aren't going to notice having to take back one more set of dishes."  
  
I smiled and shrugged. "I guess you're right, thanks though."  
  
"No problem, kiddo," Manx said as I stepped through the door and out of the station.  
  
A sudden thought occurred to me as I thought over Birman's words. I wondered if that kid I'd risked the chopper for was still at Pang Nuan. or is he'd even survived. He'd looked to be in pretty bad shape when he was lifted into the hold. I paused and turned. "Hey, do either of you know it there's a kid here? A small guy who would have come in probably with a guy who was missing his legs.. screaming a lot. His leg was all shot up I think.. er.. the kid's not the screaming guy's. Does any of that ring a bell?"  
  
Manx and Ms. Birman exchanged a glance. "Yeah, the screaming guy sure does. He was given something to shut him up and then medivaced somewhere north of here. Jesus, what a mess," Manx grumbled. "Anyway, I think that kid you're talking about is still here. Doctor Madison worked on him this morning. He wasn't in as bad of shape as we thought, lots of shrapnel in his leg and a lacerated stomach, but nothing we couldn't handle. I think he's actually one of the only guys from his unit that's still hanging around here.. most of the infantry guys who were still on their feet were airlifted to the transport station down the river. Probably going to be reassigned. Poor bastards." Manx shook her head at this and went back to filing her nails.  
  
"I see," I said softly.  
  
Birman looked over at me and pointed out the door. "He's back there if you want to see him. I'm taking it he's one of the guys you rescued, right? But he's so hopped up on morphine right now he's probably in la la land. You can check on him yourself though, like I said. Now that I think about it, I think he was babbling something about wanting to see his pilot before we knocked him out. What's the story?"  
  
I shrugged. "No story. I just waited behind a few minutes for some soldier to find him, that's all. He did, but by the looks of him I thought the kid was going to die anyway."  
  
"Ah. Well, go back if you want."  
  
I'd nodded and closed the door to the station behind me. I thought that going to look at the kid, even if he was knocked out on his ass by morphine, might make me feel a little more human again. I made my way down the rows of hospital beds, knowing that the ones which were screened off were occupied. I glanced through every curtain until I came to a bed that held a small enough figure to be the kid who managed to hack it all the way back to base. I moved the curtain aside and went to stand by the bed.  
  
I looked down at the still figure that lay there and smiled slowly. I knew that the soldier in the bed had to be at least seventeen, but in sleep he didn't seem to be even that old. His hair was honey colored and it fell forward over his forehead and ears. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were since they were closed, but something told me that they were probably blue. It seemed right that they would be. I stood there for several minutes just staring down at the unconscious kid, thinking about how he was somebody's son, somebody's brother, and about how he would be dead if it wasn't for me. If I hadn't stayed behind this kid who was sleeping before me would have most likely died in that death hole I'd flown into. The thought made me feel good, it made me feel glad that I had come to Nam. If I died the next day I could do it knowing that I at least made a difference to one person's life.  
  
Thinking this, and without meaning to, I'd reached out and touched the kid's forehead. As my fingers gently brushed against his skin his eyelids fluttered and slowly opened. All of a sudden I found myself under the scrutinizing gaze of the deepest pair of blue eyes I had ever seen. They were wide and soulful, peering at me through a haze of morphine and sleep. Their depth made me uncomfortable, and pulling my hand away hastily I turned to leave, hoping the kid wouldn't register any of it.  
  
As I turned small, vice-like fingers reached out and caught my wrist, making me pause. I turned my head to look over my shoulder, the kid just lay there, staring at me.  
  
"Were you my pilot?"  
  
".. Huh?"  
  
"Were you my pilot, were you the pilot who waited?"  
  
I nodded slowly and turned around again, letting him draw my back towards the bed. When he felt I was close enough he relaxed his grip on my wrist, his hand trailing down to my hand. He laced his cold fingers with my own, squeezing gently, and then lay there looking up at nothing.  
  
The act caught me off guard. Here I'd just come to see if the kid was still alive and I'd ended up holding hands with him. I couldn't think of anything to do so I just stood there, letting his fingers stay entwined with my own and waited for him to say something. I reminded myself that the kid was hopped up on morphine and probably a few other drugs as well. He might not say anything at all, he might not even realize he was holding my hand. Yet I didn't really want to let go.. I didn't want to move away or leave the poor kid alone. Standing there, holding his hand made me feel more human than I had since I'd arrived at Pang Nuan.  
  
After a long while he turned his head again, his eye brightened as they focused on me once more. He squeezed my hand and smiled. "I'm sorry. I meant to thank you, but I think I forgot. Whatever they've got me on is making it a little foggy in my head." He laughed quietly at this and then grimaced. "Ok, no more laughing."  
  
He sighed. I began to pull away. "I should let you get some rest.."  
  
His grip tightened on my hand. "No, you don't have to!" he'd nearly cried and then seemed to catch himself. "Er.. I'm sorry, of course you probably have duties to perform. I don't want to keep you here."  
  
I relaxed again, stepping closer. "No, it isn't that. I really don't have anything to do other than go back to the barracks and go back to sleep. Then again.. I've been sleeping all day. I just.. I just came back here to see if you were all right. You looked like you were in pretty bad shape in the chopper. I wanted to make sure that I hadn't waited for nothing. I didn't intend to disturb you."  
  
He shook his head. "You didn't. I wanted to meet you, really. I wanted to thank you for waiting when Jefe asked you to. He told me about it while we were waiting.. but he's gone now. He left with the others this afternoon. I was still in surgery then," his voice trailed off and then he looked up at me intensely. "If it wasn't for you, I'd be dead right now."  
  
I shrugged. "I can't imagine that I did anything that nobody else would do."  
  
The kid shook his head. "No way, that's not true. You must not have been here very long if you think that's the way it is. Most pilots would have blown out of there faster than you can wink. Who cares about just one more wasted soldier, right? But you waited. You waited for me, and I'll never forget that." He squeezed my hand again.  
  
This time I smiled and squeezed back a little. "I was just doing my job, kid."  
  
"Omi."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Omi, it's my name. Don't call me 'kid' I hate it. Everyone in my platoon always called me 'The Kid.' It gets annoying after awhile. Just cause I'm the youngest.. and the smallest."  
  
I'd chuckled and shaken my head. "Sure, I guess I can see that. Omi then. You have a last name, Omi?"  
  
"Tsukiyono, but most people find it hard to pronounce, so I just go with Omi."  
  
"Yeah well, I speak Japanese, so I don't find it hard to pronounce, Tsukiyono Omi," I said, speaking his name in the traditional style. With a name like that I knew the kid was Japanese somewhere, though I couldn't tell by looking. I was beginning to wonder how I managed to be surrounded by so many mixed-breed Asians.  
  
Omi giggled and then coughed. "Heh, you sound like my grandfather. He's the only one in my family that's really Japanese. The rest of us are pretty much whiter than white, but the name sticks so, I guess that makes me Japanese too, huh?"  
  
I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. Six of one, half a dozen of the other."  
  
He smiled at me softly and then sighed. "Are you going to tell me your name?"  
  
"Ken Hidaka."  
  
"Can I call you Ken?"  
  
I blinked and then smiled. "Sure. Nobody else around here does."  
  
We stared at each other for a few more moments and then the kid sighed again and squeezed my hand one last time. "Well, Ken. I suddenly realized that I'm really tired. And I should let you go and get some sleep too," he said softly and then turned his deep blue eyes on me once again. They were suddenly intense. "Will you come and see me tomorrow? I'm going to be stuck in this bed for days, and everyone in my platoon is either dead or relocated by now. You're the only person I know here.. and I think I'll go crazy if I can't talk to anyone."  
  
I smiled distantly and then released his hand, setting it gently at his side. "Sure, kid. I don't really have anyone to talk to either, so it'll be a win/win situation. Talk to you later then. Good night."  
  
I turned to walk away, and heard the kid call after me softly. "Goodnight, Ken. Thank you."  
  
I didn't stop or pause to acknowledge his parting call, but just kept moving, heading for the door. It felt strangely cramped in the infirmary all of a sudden. I thought about the kid and his strange behavior. Not all that strange perhaps, but unnerving to someone who was used to being rather ignored. I wondered briefly if it was a good idea to get to know the kid, to become his friend as he seemed intent on my becoming. Most likely he'd get transferred or I'd get shot out of the sky or something. But I guess that was the risk you had to take if you didn't want to end up icing yourself off like Ran Fujimiya. I wondered why I suddenly brought him into the equation and then deftly cut him back out of it. I decided that there was a part of me that wanted a friend badly enough to disregard the consequences. It hurt to be empty.  
  
Little did I know how much of a mixed blessing Omi Tsukiyono would be.  
  
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Notes:  
  
Benzodiazepine is a drug used in anti-anxiety medication. It's baaad. Not good. No no. It is physically and psychologically addictive, but nobody knew this until the 1980s. Thus it was -highly- prescribed during and immediately following the Vietnam War to help 'soothe' soldiers and veterans alike. (Hmm. and you were wondering what it was exactly that Ken was taking like candy, ne? And how do I know this stuff?)  
  
Morphine: No not just a fun drug that heroine addicts like, but a highly effective pain killer. Used in mass quantities during the Vietnam War due to the rather painful nature of most wounds received during guerilla warfare. A lot of Vietnam Veterans became addicted to morphine during their time in military medical facilities and continued the habit back home. One of the many reasons so many vets had a hell of a time readjusting to life after the war.  
  
Hoped you liked it! If anything is confusing let me know and I'll do my best to clear it up. Review!! Now!! Do it now!! Go!! 


	5. Playing for Smokes

Disclaimer: If I were a billionaire I'd do like Micahel Jackson did to the Beatles and buy up the rights, but I'm not so I can't. There for I will simply borrow them and make nothing from it. Satisfied?  
  
Comments: More for you, more for you! Sorry, this took a bit longer than the others to get up, but you can't blame me. *Points accusingly at Lilas* My betaer was slacking. Actually she had work to do and then got sick and was attacked by a pack of vicious small children and watched an awful lot of StarGate.. This chapter was mostly done a week ago, but for some reason I wasn't satisfied and refused to post it without being betaed. So don't blame me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. R&R, please!! And if you have any questions on historical stuff or anything you can always e-mail me too. *points to author bio-thingy*.  
  
Notes:  
  
The Officers Head: ok, in military talk the head is like the bathroom. Only it's a room full of a lot of toilets. So the officer's head is not referring to Yoshi or Crawford's noggin, it's talking about the officer's designated bath-house.  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
  
  
With my first out over with the days once again passed by in a haze of routine. Every morning we woke to the sound of reverie and filed out to the training field for inspection. Inspection was followed by mess, mess by training, training by duties, and back to mess. Afternoons were blessedly left open to be used to our discretion until evening training picked up and was followed by evening mess. Then until lock down the evenings were open to us once again. More missions followed the first out. I never lost my nerve again. Maybe it was just the pills, but I liked to think that it was because after talking to the kid I realized that no matter how bad things were, I was there to make them better. I had a responsibility to every blood soaked soldier I picked up and every wide- eyed newbie I left off. Yet every time I flew into the field I couldn't help but feel that my humanity died a little more, that each dead body meant less and less to me, and that maybe Fujimiya had it right all along. And so the next few weeks passed.  
  
I spent most of my free time perched on a stool in the infirmary by Omi's bed, talking to Lieutenant Kudou, and avoiding getting involved with Schuldich and Farf. I discovered quickly that when bored Max and Jei had a tendency to get themselves and anyone else unfortunate enough to get involved with them in a lot of trouble. Their favorite pastime was plaguing the existence of Lieutenant Commander Crawford. I've never met anyone in my life who is as creative with practical jokes as Max Wolff. Where he got the keys to the officer's head and that many boxes of instant Jell-O is a mystery I'll never be able to solve. Every once in a while I'd make an attempt to engage my door gunner in conversation, but I tended to crash and burn every time. It seemed that the only person he cared to waste time with was the Crew Commander. More than once I felt distinctively the outsider when I entered the officer's quarters to find them conversing. And yet, despite my failure to become closer to him I found him occupying my thoughts more and more. A fact that bothered me no small amount. But such was life.  
  
The time I spent with Omi, sitting on that hard stool, simply speaking our minds was one of the few things that reinforced my sanity. I found out a lot about that kid over the couple weeks in which he was bedridden. He was born and raised in Chicago, had two older brothers, neither of which were in the war, and a very confusing family structure full of half siblings and estranged uncles in which the opposing cultures of his Japanese and Scandinavian ancestries were in constant conflict. Some of the stories he told me made me laugh until tears came from my eyes.  
  
"When we have family dinners it's always lutfisk vs. sushi. My grandfather and grandmother can go at each other for hours in Japanese and Swedish neither able to understand the other. It's hilarious. I wish you could meet my family, Ken," he'd say, staring off distantly, thinking about home.  
  
I nodded and smiled. "Me too, Omi. Maybe some day I will, you never know."  
  
He smiled and looked at me, the distance fading as he focused. "Yeah, I guess that's true. What about your family, Ken? You never talk about them. What's it like in your house, huh?"  
  
The question caught me off guard and I blinked, looking away. "My family? Ah... there's not much to tell, really. Mother, father, an older sister and an older brother. We don't really get along so well anymore. We kinda had a... falling out before I left home. I think it's safe to say that I was pretty much disowned," I said, laughing hollowly. I thought about home and my parents briefly. Flashes of the arguments, the accusations came into my head. The sadness must have shown.  
  
I felt Omi reach out and take my hand, lacing his fingers in mine as he had that first night we'd talked. "Did they not want you to come to Vietnam?"  
  
I blinked and looked down at our hands, I shook my head. "No.. it wasn't anything like that. We didn't see eye to eye on something... it tore my family apart and in the end I lost the most important person in the world to me. But, I don't really want to talk about it. I'm sorry, it isn't very important anyway, boring really."  
  
Omi sat up, leaning forward, looking into my face. "I doubt that's true. Will you tell me about it sometime? I'd really like to hear about it, I mean it."  
  
I looked back at the kid, caught for a moment by his blue eyes and the sincerity I found there. I wondered if perhaps Omi Tsukiyono might be the guy who would understand, the guy who I could tell everything to. I wanted to tell him... wanted to tell someone anyway, but there was too much at risk. Absently I wondered what Yuriko Asakawa was doing at that moment. I wondered how the weather was in Canada.  
  
"Ken?"  
  
I shook my head. "What? I'm sorry, what did you say?"  
  
"Nothing, you just got all distant there. Where did you go?" Omi asked cocking his head to one side.  
  
I smiled weakly. "Nowhere, just thinking."  
  
"Hm. But will you tell me about your family sometime?"  
  
I'd paused for a moment and then nodded my head slowly. "Sometime. Not now though."  
  
Omi smiled at me and squeezed my hand. "Ok. Promise?"  
  
"Yeah. Sure, I promise."  
  
I learned that Omi had been recruited because of his size. He was barely over five feet tall, short by any standard, but that was exactly what the army was looking for. The Viet Cong had a habit of digging tunnels in the jungle where they hid and stored their ammunition. It was the job of little guys like Omi to crawl down into those rabbit holes head first and flush out whoever or whatever was in there. Each time he shimmied into a two-foot diameter hole in the ground he risked finding a grenade or a gun or a bayonet in his face. Sometimes he would talk about missions he'd been on, about scouring the jungle watching men get blown apart by VC booby traps, and the absolute darkness of a track of hand dug tunnel. When he thought about the rabbit holes sometimes he would begin to shake, and stare off into space, remembering.  
  
I didn't like to see him remember so I'd usually distract him with a joke. He would then giggle madly and smile, probably more for my sake than his own.  
  
As the days passed the bond I shared with the kid grew deeper and deeper. Having him there, talking to him, feeling his gratitude for life kept me from drowning in the nihilism that sometimes threatened to overtake me, especially late at night. His smile was always quick and ready, his mood never less than amiable. It felt as if he were a younger brother, or a best friend. He was the first person I learned to love again after I left home. It felt good to care for someone and to be cared for in return.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
I've been thinking about the kid so much that I didn't even notice that I unpacked all the freight. The boxes lie piled in a heap, ready to be broken down. I guess that's my next job. Absently I wonder why I'm thinking so much about Nam today. Usually I try to forget, but for some reason today... I want to remember.  
  
I put my face in my hands and take a deep breath. This isn't a good idea. I'll get lost again. I'll get caught up in the darkness, but something pushes me to keep thinking. What's the point? Remembering, hoping, wishing he was still with me is enough to drive me insane. If it wasn't for the pills I'd probably already be insane by now. It wouldn't take much..it wouldn't take much.  
  
The feel of hands on my shoulders makes me jump. I didn't even hear the footsteps come up behind me. I wheel around, gasping.  
  
"Geez, Ken, take a chill pill," the young woman standing in front of me says, smiling and putting up her hands.  
  
I exhale sharply. "Don't sneak up on me, Patricia. Jesus." Patricia is a young thing, 20 to be exact, working her way through college. I have no idea how she makes enough money at this place to get herself through but she seems to manage. She is tall and pretty, unrealistically thin with long -straight- hair. She must iron it, but then a lot of girls do. She's been working at the store for almost a year, I should be used to her by now, but there's something almost disturbing about her. I think it might be the fact that I think she has a crush on me, and the more emotionally unavailable I am the more interested she seems to become. I don't understand people like that... but then again... I think about Ran.  
  
She leans forward and stares straight into my eyes. "You look sketchy today, Ken. Are you feeling ok?"  
  
I take a step back. "Yes, I'm fine. But don't crowd me, Pat."  
  
She rolls her eyes and then turns to get an apron. "Well excuuuse me. You obviously aren't feeling very talkative this morning, so I'll just go out to my register without giving you the benefit of my company." With that she walks out of the back room and I sigh in relief.  
  
Banzai lifts his head off his bed and looks at me inquisitively. I walk over to him and crouch at his side, rubbing his ears and scratching under his chin. I babble at him in baby talk and let him lick my face before getting up and tackling the huge pile of boxes that waits to be broken down.  
  
I pull the box cutter out of my back pocket, pushing up the thin razor blade. As I go to, slicing through the thin layers of packing tape that hold the boxes together I slip carelessly and cut into the fleshy part of my palm. Gasping in surprise I drop the cutter and grab my hand, looking at the cut. A thick dribble of dark red blood oozes from the gash. I bring it quickly to my mouth and suck gently. The taste of my own blood makes me lightheaded. My eyes flutter for a moment as the metallic sharpness flows over my tongue. I have to sit down.  
  
I walk back to Banzai and collapse beside him, resting my head on his warm body. He whines quietly and then settles back.  
  
I stare up at the ceiling and let the taste of my blood take me where it will.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Just another afternoon on the base. It would be an afternoon that changed everything, but I didn't know that as I walked into the rec hall, humming 'Eve of Destruction' to myself. The rec hall was long and low, built out of concrete like most of the other buildings on base. Inside it was furnished with a few card tables, a pool table, and a large radio. Not much recreation, but it was better than nothing. In the back there was a storage room full of balls and various 'play things', and beside that the projector room. If we were really lucky they'd play some old, cheesy movie from the fifties or forties on Friday nights, and if we weren't lucky they'd play newsreels. Watching mobs waving signs that protested your very existence wasn't exactly something that boosted morale. Little had changed at home, the hippies still hated us and everybody else didn't seem to really care.  
  
I wasn't sure what I intended to do in the rec hall, but Omi wasn't in the infirmary, which bothered me slightly, and Lieutenant Kudou wasn't anywhere as far as I could tell. For some reason I had a sneaky suspicion that wherever they were they were there together.  
  
"Hidaka! Just the man we were looking for!"  
  
I turned my head quickly and saw Schuldich waving at me from across the room. He was standing up at a card table, motioning to me frantically. I eyed him warily, and took stock of the others seated around the table. Farfarello, of course, Swanny, and oddly enough, Fujimiya. I moved cautiously towards them and stood off a ways waiting for Schu to tell me what he wanted.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"Pull up a chair. Play cards with us, Hidaka," Schu offered, grinning widely.  
  
"What are you playing?" I asked just for the sake of asking.  
  
"Poker, what else. C'mon we could use another player. Adamson and Cue Ball just blew out of here. Pull up a chair," Schu insisted.  
  
"He probably doesn't want to," Farf said in his disturbingly soft voice. "He'd probably rather play Mah Jong or better yet Chinese Checkers. Am I right, Nippy?"  
  
"Sure, Jei. Just about as much as you'd rather be playing whack the shillelagh and chasing sheep," I answered levelly. Everyone at the table snickered, even Farf... even Fujimiya. I watched him from the corner of my eye. He shook his head slowly and smiled. I motioned to Schu. "What are you playing for?"  
  
"Cigarettes," he said flatly indicating the small piles of sticks in front of each player.  
  
I shrugged and shook my head. "Well, there you go. Guess I can't play after all. I don't smoke."  
  
Before I could walk away Fujimiya grunted and stood up from his chair reaching into his back pocket. Without looking directly at me he flipped me a full pack and pointed to a chair. "Sit down and play Hidaka."  
  
I looked at him blankly for a few moments, wondering at his strange behavior. Did he actually want me to join them? Did he want to risk actually getting to know or like me? Heaven forbid his ice walls were cracking. I rolled my eyes, reveling in my own sarcasm, and then took one of the empty seats, my back facing the doorway.  
  
"Thanks, Fujimiya. I guess you're really desperate for another player if you'd deign to ask me to play, much less give me a pack of your smokes," I drawled sarcastically.  
  
He looked at me flatly for a few moments and I was trying to decide what he was actually feeling when he looked away again, taking one of the cigarettes from his pile and lighting it. He took a drag and then blew the smoke in my general direction. "It's not that. It's just that this way, I get to keep whatever you win as well as whatever I win. Seeing as you don't smoke."  
  
I smiled at him blandly. "Well, that's nice."  
  
Schu waved his hand around, swirling Fujimiya's smoke and then broke in. "Alright, shut-up both of you and pay attention. We're going to be playing..."  
  
Schu was cut off by a loud cry from somewhere behind me.  
  
"Ken! There you are! Hey look, I got discharged from the infirmary today!"  
  
I turned around in my chair and looked over my shoulder in disbelief. The voice belonged to the kid. He was smiling broadly, limping towards us as fast as he could. He was in full fatigues, hat and all. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his jacket was unbuttoned, his dog tags flashing, catching the light. Everyone in the rec hall turned towards the sound of the kid's voice. I smiled weakly.  
  
He came up to the table and leaned over the back of my chair, putting his arms around my neck, hugging me. I felt myself blush, knowing that all the other guys were still staring at Omi. I patted his back gently and then began to pry his arms off. "Hey, that's great, kid, but are you sure you should be running around already?" I asked, chuckling a little.  
  
He grinned at me and ruffled my hair, which seemed weird. "Sure, I'm sure. Doctor Madison checked me out this morning and discharged me. I've been talking to Lieutenant Commander Crawford. I'm going to get a Purple Heart! And then as soon as all my papers are in order I'm going home. Honorable discharge. I don't have to go back to the rabbit holes!" he nearly cried, taking my hand and squeezing it tightly.  
  
I smiled and glanced around at the other guys at the table. They were all eyeing us curiously. More like staring in disbelief, actually.  
  
After a moment Omi looked up and glanced around the table, smiling at everyone.  
  
"Who's your friend, Hidaka?" Schu asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Eh... sorry this is Omi Tsukiyono. He's one of the infantrymen we rescued on my first out. The kid we waited for. I've been visiting him in the infirmary."  
  
"Really?" Fujimiya asked in disbelief, leaning towards us. He eyed the kid narrowly.  
  
I glanced between him and Omi. They just stared at each other. "Er... this is Ran Fujimiya, my door gunner," I said lamely.  
  
Omi lit up, extending his hand. "Oh wow, really? Thanks for keeping us covered while you waited. I owe you my life too, I guess. Thanks a lot, I really mean it."  
  
Ran smiled dimly but reached out to take the kid's hand. "Sure you do, kid."  
  
Omi blinked and then released Ran's hand. He glanced at the cigarette hanging between Ran's fingers and then reached out his hand again. "Hey, can I bum a drag, do you mind?"  
  
Ran raised an eyebrow his mouth falling open. Everybody's mouths fell open. Ran began to chuckle and then held out the cigarette, shrugging. "Go for it."  
  
Omi beamed and took the smoke between his long fingers, bringing to his lips and taking a drag with obviously practiced grace. He closed his eyes and held the smoke in his lungs for a moment before exhaling slowly in what sounded more like a lover's sigh than anything else. He tipped his head back. "Oh God, I've wanted a smoke for so long!" he cried happily, wriggling ecstatically and then stood straight again, holding the cigarette back out to Fujimiya.  
  
Fujimiya eyed the kid and then eyed his cigarette. He shook his head. "Go ahead and keep it, kid."  
  
"Really?! Thanks, man. I owe you. Twice I owe you, I guess," he said happily, sliding into the seat next to me. He pulled one of his legs up onto the seat with him, wrapping his arms around his knee and grinned at the table. He took another drag and let the cigarette hang between his lips. Everybody stared at him in amazement and then began to chuckle.  
  
I chuckled along with the others and then finished the introductions. "Omi, this is Schuldich, his gunner Farfarello, and Swanny. All members of the 326th AHC. We were about to play some cards, you wanna join in?"  
  
Omi looked interestedly at the deck of cards in the center of the table. "Sure, what are you playing?"  
  
"Poker, kid. You know how to play?" Schuldich broke in.  
  
Omi looked over at Schu and narrowed his eyes. "Sure I do. You wanna let me deal?"  
  
Everyone chuckled again, but Schu pushed the deck towards Omi anyways nodding. "Suit yourself, kid, but you don't have any smokes. We're playing for smokes."  
  
Omi shrugged. "Well, I'll just play on credit until I get caught up. That ok with you, boys?"  
  
Farfarello and Schuldich exchanged an amused glance and Swanny whacked his forehead. "Whatever you say, kid. But there's a borrow limit."  
  
He shrugged. "That's fine. I won't reach it."  
  
I patted Omi on the back. "Hey, Fujimiya gave me a pack, you want half to start out with?"  
  
He shook his head. "No, I'm not worried," he said reaching for the deck. Without saying anything he split the deck, shuffled and bridged it in the wink of an eye, glossy cards flashing in his hands. He shuffled the cards with obviously practiced speed and accuracy. When he was done he passed the cards to Schu to split and then began to deal. "Alright, gentlemen. The name of the game is High Chicago..."  
  
Two hours later Omi had royally whooped all of our asses at poker, the pile of smokes in front of him enough to make up for all the smokes he'd been missing. Swanny was cleaned out. He groaned and then stood up, rubbing his head. "Shit, man, I'm outta here. Enjoy the smokes kid, and remind me never to play cards with you -ever- again." He chuckled and ruffled Omi's hair on the way out. Omi giggled and winked at me.  
  
I had three sticks left and I slid them over to Ran, shaking my head in defeat. "There you go, Fujimiya, my big winnings. It wasn't quite worth it to give me that pack was it?"  
  
He didn't respond, only herded the three stray smokes into his small pile. Jei and Max both groaned and picked up what they had left, about a quarter of a pack a piece.  
  
"What, are we done?" Omi asked, looking around.  
  
"Yeah, kid, we're done," Schu grumbled.  
  
"Aww, and I was runnin' hot, too," he said despondently.  
  
"We noticed," I said, whacking him on the back. He giggled and then tossed a cigarette from his pile towards Fujimiya.  
  
"I owe you one, so there it is," Omi chirped. Fujimiya nodded and added it to his pile.  
  
We sat silently around the table for a few minutes, each one of us reflecting on our personal thoughts. I figured I could get up and leave, but it didn't seem worth it to bother. I might as well enjoy the company while it lasted. Farfarello and Omi stared at each other curiously. After a few minutes had passed I noticed that Schuldich was fidgeting restlessly. That could only mean trouble. He stretched and yawned and looked around warily, sizing up who was still in the rec hall. Finally he leaned forward and motioned for the rest of us to do the same.  
  
"I've had a thought," he started out slowly.  
  
Fujimiya snorted. "How'd it feel?"  
  
Schu glared at him and shook his head. "That's so old, Ranny."  
  
"Just tell us what you're thinking, Max," Farfarello grumbled, raising one thin, white eyebrow.  
  
"How would you boys like to get out of base for the night?"  
  
Everyone exchanged glances and waited for Schu to clarify. He didn't so finally I spoke up. "What exactly are you proposing, Schuldich?"  
  
He grinned wolfishly and tossed his head. "I have a little plan working over in my head on how we can get to Sang Cho-na and back by morning without anyone being the wiser. Official leave doesn't come up till the end of the month, are you boys really going to tell me that you're going to pass up a fail-proof opportunity to get a little poon-tang before then? I don't think so."  
  
Jei cackled to himself and eyed Schu interestedly. Ran scoffed and sat back. "Count me out," he growled.  
  
"You can't back out, Fujimiya," Schu snapped. "We're going to need your help if this is going to work, and you owe me anyway..."  
  
Ran said nothing to this only curled his lip and leaned forward again.  
  
Omi glanced at me and then back at Schuldich. "I don't think I should... I mean, I'm not even really stationed here."  
  
Schu grinned at him. "All mores the reason to go ahead and do it. If you get caught, what are they going to do? Discharge you? Ha. That's a laugh. Besides kid, I need you especially to pull this off. You're one of us now."  
  
Omi didn't look so certain and looked over at me again. I just shrugged. I figured that I didn't really have much choice in the matter. Knowing Schuldich he'd drag me along kicking and screaming anyway. Schu chuckled and nodded, licking his lips and leaning forward again.  
  
"Alright then... here's the plan..."  
  
  
  
Lock down occurred at precisely nine o'clock every night. The generators were terminated, the water pumps were switched off, the front gates were locked, and every soldier was expected to be in their barracks until morning. Not a single light shone in the base after lock down. Tonight was no exception to the light rule, but not every soldier was where he was supposed to be. Quite on the contrary.  
  
I was huddled next to Farfarello against the front gate, water from the grass soaking into my drab army uniform. We were waiting for two things to happen. The first was for the kid to appear with the gate keys, the second was for Ran and Schuldich to appear with the Lieutenant Commander's Jeep. The plan broke down like this: Farfarello and I would stay on lookout by the front gate. Meanwhile Omi, using his small stature and guerilla warfare training to his advantage, would sneak into the officer's quarters and liberate the Lieutenant Commander of not only the keys to his military issue Jeep but also the keys to the front gate. As Omi did that, Ran and Schu would get to said Jeep, put it in neutral and push it, so as not to make any noise, from where it was parked behind the officer's quarters to the front gate. Once we got the keys and the Jeep we would unlock the gate, send Omi back to the officer's quarters to put the gate keys back, and then roll the Jeep a quarter mile farther down the road where we would wait for the kid to catch up.  
  
It was a horrible plan. In fact the number of things that could have gone wrong was troubling. And yet, for some reason, nothing went wrong and it was quarter to ten when Omi finally limped into the back seat of the Jeep and we tore off for Sang Cho-na.  
  
The village was approximately twenty klicks away down a pot holed, rutted road. The way Schu drove it didn't take more than half an hour to get there, but I'd almost had a heart attack on the way. From the look on Omi's face I wasn't the only one.  
  
Sang Cho-na was your average Vietnamese village. The buildings were made of either cement or slat wood. Tin and thatched roofs intermingled giving the whole place the feel of a shantytown. There was a market where you could buy whole chickens, alive or dead, and few other 'shops' if you could call them that. The streets were usually clogged with mopeds and bicycles ferrying their owners wherever they had to go. Exactly where that might be I never had any idea, because as far as I, and the rest of the soldiers station at Pang Nuan were concerned, there was only one place of interest in Sang Cho-na, and that was 'Willy Ng's: American Style Bar.'  
  
I don't know how 'American Style' it really was, but Ng's was at least a place to try and escape Nam. It was designed as far as I could tell to look like a saloon from the old west, or at least a saloon from an old west movie. The actual bar was set up in front of a flight of stairs that lead to the upstairs rooms. Ng's small army of prostitutes offered to suck soldiers off for five dollars apiece, ten dollars if you wanted to do it in a private room. For fifteen dollars you could rent an upper room and a prostitute who would 'love you long time,' and for twenty you could rent the room without the prostitute. I'm not exactly sure what Willy Ng's logic was, but in it must have worked.  
  
Willy seemed to believe that the only thing American soldiers should want to drink was Jack Daniels. Before Nam I never liked whiskey, but at Willy Ng's every second glass was free, if you happened to be American. In my case it took some convincing, but in the end my dog tags seemed proof enough. Suffice to say I acquired a taste.  
  
We parked the car in the middle of the street outside Willy Ng's, Schu cutting the engine and slamming on the breaks. He and Farf hoisted themselves out of the front seats, jumping to the dirt street below. I glanced nervously at Ran, but he looked even more dower than usual, so I didn't say anything. He stood and used the roll bar to vault over the side of the automobile. I did the same, almost losing my balance. I figured that all in all I did pretty well seeing as it was my first ever attempt to jump out of a Jeep. Turning back around I waited for Omi, but he sat very still, staring ahead as if he didn't know where he was.  
  
"Hey, Omi?" I called, reaching back into the Jeep, shaking his shoulder.  
  
"Huh? Oh, Ken! Sorry, I just kinda spaced out, didn't I?" he said, putting on a stupid grin.  
  
I chuckled. "Yeah, are you feeling ok?"  
  
His eyes dropped and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I think so. My leg just kinda hurts, you know? And I feel... itchy, shaky maybe."  
  
I squeezed his shoulder. "Well, I'm not surprised. You only got discharged today, you've been lying around in a bed for weeks. I should have made you stay behind," I said, shaking my head.  
  
Omi looked at me, his eyes flashing. "I can take care of myself. It isn't your job to look after me like I'm some kid!"  
  
I let go of his shoulder, taking a step back. "Whoa. Where did that come from?"  
  
He dropped his eyes again and shook his head. "I don't know. Never mind, I'm sorry, Ken. Will you help me out of here?"  
  
I smiled and reached my hand out. "Sure."  
  
Schu stopped a small, dark-haired boy in the street and paid him a dollar to sit on the hood of the car and keep other small, dark haired children from touching it. He took the dollar but gave Schu a disgusted look, before perching himself on the hood of the Jeep.  
  
"Well, c'mon, boys," Schu whooped, whacking Fujimiya and me on the back. "Let's live it up! Welcome to Willy Ng's, Hidaka."  
  
We were greeted by Willy himself as we entered the open fronted establishment. Thinking back on it, I remember him as being an unusually tall Vietnamese man with bad, Elvis Presley hair, a ridiculous mustache, and mossy teeth. His eyes were narrow and calculating and his smile made your skin crawl. Greasy was perhaps the optimum word to describe Mr. Willy Ng.  
  
"Ah, so welcome. So welcome. Mista Schulding an his friends. But wait, wha is dis? It's not leave time. I think maybe you sneaky out, hey?" He laughed, holding his stomach and then smoothing his mustache. I wondered briefly if it was held on by glue.  
  
"Just maybe, Willy, but if you want us to drink your booze, you'd better keep your mouth shut," Schuldich replied, grinning slyly.  
  
"Ah, yes, of course. Lieutenant Commander is no friend of Willy Ng. Why he tell him on you? No no, come and sit, sit and drink. Drink and maybe... eh...?" He raised an eyebrow suggestively and winked, breaking into laughter again and came over to us, putting his arms around Schu and Farf's shoulders, ushering them farther into the bar. Omi, Fujimiya, and I followed.  
  
The bar was, of course, not crowded. Had it been official leave it would have been another story, but as it stood on that particular night, the only other occupants seemed to be wife-weary farmers. A few were seated at the bar, and a few more took up a table in the back. Dark glances issued forth from the other occupants, but I tried not to mind.  
  
We sat at a cramped, round table, Willy hovering around us for a few moments until Schu finally spoke up. "Alright, a round of whiskeys. First round's on me, and the second round is free."  
  
Willy simpered appreciatively and scuttled off to retrieve our drinks. It was then that Jei broke in with some asinine, rambling joke that it turned out he'd forgotten the punch line to. Fujimiya looked like he was about ready to break something and Omi kept looking around in wide-eyed fascination like some little lost boy who had found the witch's proverbial house of candy. I wasn't sure I liked that look in the kid's eyes.  
  
When our drinks finally came, Omi took one look into the bottom of his glass and whispered. "I've never had whiskey before."  
  
Schu downed his glass in one swig and then leaned forward, eyeing Omi skeptically. "Do you mean to tell me that you can gamble like a ma'fa and smoke like a chimney but you've never had a frickin' glass of whiskey? Kid, drink up. You have a lot to learn."  
  
Omi looked at me and giggled. "Well, I guess he's right."  
  
I just shrugged and took my glass between my fingers, sipping it, not enjoying the taste but hoping that the alcohol might improve my mood.  
  
"Here, I'll tell you what, Omi," Farfarello broke in, his eerie voice slipping out from the corners of his mouth, "Drink it like I do. Just take it all back in one go. I promise, it's the best way to drink whiskey, goes down smooth." With that Farf took his glass and downed it as Schu had before and then licked his lips, uttering a little 'ah' sound.  
  
Omi didn't look too sure, but shrugged anyway, and picked up his glass. "Well," he said quietly, staring into the amber liquid, "here goes nothing. Bottoms up!"  
  
Before I could reach out to stop him, the kid had poured the whole thing down the hatch. Schu and Farf watched with wide-eyed anticipation, Ran just shook his head and grumbled in disgust.  
  
As soon as the glass left Omi's lips I watched as his face had turned about five different shades of red. His deep, blue eyes grew as large as dinner plates and he began to cough violently. I have to admit that it was pretty funny. He pitched forward and gripped the edge of the grimy table.  
  
"I... I think... water!" he spluttered, breathing in large gasps.  
  
Schu and Farf burst into immediate laughter, guffawing and banging the table. I even heard Fujimiya chuckle to himself as Schu got up from his seat and went behind Omi to grip his shoulder, massaging them appreciatively. "What a sport! Ah, kid, you're a laugh riot, you know that?! What a frickin' sport. Hell, I'll get you a glass of water. Although around here, I think you're safer stickin' with the whiskey."  
  
Omi coughed some more, and nodded his head violently. Schu whacked his back once and then sauntered off towards the bar. When he returned he had not only a glass of water but a scantily clad woman in tow. She was obviously a whore, I'd been on the streets of San Francisco enough to know what one looked like. Painted on make-up, tight skirt, reeking perfume, and a looseness about the joints and skin that made her seem more like some rag doll than a woman. Some things were international.  
  
Schu winked at us and set the glass of water down in front of the kid, who was still coughing lightly every few moments.  
  
"Boys this is Phi-Ahn, one of Willy's new girls. Say hi, Phi-Ahn," Schu had chirped, giving her ass a squeeze.  
  
She leaned forward and smiled, showing a set of teeth that was just slightly less than whole.  
  
"Sucky-sucky, five dolla. Me love you long time," she said sweetly.  
  
Schu guffawed. "Isn't that cute? I think that's the only thing she knows how to say in English, but hell, who needs a chick to say more than that?"  
  
Farfarello laughed loudly and leaned back in his chair. "I'm not going to argue."  
  
"Charming, Schuldich," I grumbled, swirling my whiskey around in the glass. Omi was too preoccupied with drinking his water to comment at all, and Fujimiya just glared coldly at the whole world.  
  
Schu sat down, pulling the young woman into his lap. She sat there pertly, and put her arms around his neck. "Oh, GI," she cooed. Schu trailed his finger down her neck and blew on her ear.  
  
"Get a room, Schu," I said, gagging slightly for effect.  
  
"No way, it costs more!" he snapped. "Why should I pay ten dollars to get head upstairs when I can pay five and get it right here?"  
  
At this Omi spit out his water and started coughing again. I whacked him on the back idly with one hand and glared at Schu. "You can't be serious. You're going to let her blow you in front... in front of everybody in here?"  
  
Schu and Farfarello exchanged a glance and both shrugged. "Happens all the time. Hey, pilot, head's head. And I don't care where or how I get it. She'll be under the table. Hey, since this is your first time in Willy's I'll buy you and the kid a go," he said, as if that made everything better.  
  
I was so taken aback by Schuldich's offer, that I couldn't even get my mouth open to decline before Fujimiya stood up abruptly, slamming his glass down on the table. "I'm going outside. Maybe when you are all done getting blown we can blow this place so we can get back to base and still get some sleep," he growled and then stalked away.  
  
"Hey, Ranny, don't get your nose all out of joint, just cause I didn't offer to pay for you, too!" Schu called after him and then bust into laughter. Just then Willy came back with the second round of whiskeys. Omi, who seemed to be ignoring Schuldich altogether, stared into the bottom of his glass again with wide, fascinated eyes. I noticed that Ran hadn't finished his first whiskey. On an impulse I stood, poured the contents of his first glass into his second, did the same to mine, then took both glasses in hand and turned away from the table.  
  
"Hey, Hidaka, where're you going?" Schu called after me.  
  
"Outside. I'm not really in the mood to watch you get off, but thanks anyway."  
  
The street was dark and empty, the air was humid, but slightly more tolerable with the lack of brain boiling sun. A few lamps flickered and guttered along the street. Somewhere a door slammed shut. I remember being thankful that there was a breeze. It blew up the street as if through a canyon, ruffling my hair and pulling at my jacket. I could see the Jeep parked in the middle of the street and Fujimiya leaning against it. He was smoking a cigarette, the butt glowing orange in the darkness, flaring brighter as he took a drag. I watched the smoke swirl in the air as I moved towards him.  
  
Without saying a word I held his whiskey out to him and then sat on the hood of the Jeep, taking a sip of mine. Whether the kid had left when Ran returned or run off long before that, taking Schu's dollar with him, I wasn't sure. But in any case he was gone.  
  
Ran eyed me for a few moments, but I couldn't read his face in the darkness. He took a sip of his whiskey and then another drag on his cigarette. "What are you doing out here?"  
  
I shrugged and took another swig. "I dunno. I guess the thought of watching everyone get blow jobs from a toothless Vietnamese whore really didn't do it for me. And as far as I'm concerned head is not just head, so I figured I might as well keep you company."  
  
He scoffed. "I don't remember particularly wanting any company."  
  
I nodded my head, expecting his comment. "No, you wouldn't would you. Might compromise your carefully constructed 'wall of impenetrable ass- hole.' So sorry. I guess I forgot for a moment that you prefer being a bitter, cold, soulless individual." I took another swig of my whiskey.  
  
I could feel his eyes burning as he glared at me. "You don't know anything about what it's like to be me."  
  
I chuckled and swirled my whiskey. "Well, I guess that you're probably right. So let's have a pity part for you then, because obviously you must be the only guy who ever lost anyone or anything important to them. It must be so hard to be you, and be the only one." I shook my head and stared at him in mock sympathy.  
  
Halfway expecting him to deck me I almost flinched when he finally spoke. "You are an arrogant, bastard, Hidaka. You have no idea what I have lost."  
  
I thought about the picture of Yuushi and the letter. I thought about Canada and Kase and all the ironic shit that made up my life. Fujimiya thought I didn't know what it was like to lose, and that thought almost made me laugh hysterically. Part of me wanted to just break out and tell him exactly how much I understood, but I knew that it wouldn't do any good. Not now at least.  
  
"You'd be surprised," I hissed.  
  
It was obvious that he hadn't been expecting my reply. His eyes widened slightly, the coldness wavering for a moment. Then he turned his face away again and scoffed, taking another drag on his cigarette.  
  
And then I -needed- to tell him. Without thinking I reached out and touched his arm, leaning towards him. He jerked, startled by the unexpected touch. Our eyes seemed to lock in the dimness of the street and for a moment I was lost in the endless intensity that I found there once again.  
  
"Ran... listen, I... I want to tell you..," but my words and thoughts were cut off by a sudden crash from inside Willy Ng's.  
  
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Afterthoughts: Ohohohohoho!! .... I really gotta get to writing the next part. And no worries. Nagi will be around shortly, if anyone was wondering. Review!! 


	6. On the Road

Disclaimer: *insert standard disclaimer here*  
  
Comments: And chapter six I here. Now you can find out what happened in Willy's and if Ran and Ken get to have that heart to heart after all... Hmmm... my vote is no. Muwahahahaha. Suffer! But you do get to finally meet Nagi! (Only took six chapters sheesh.) Poor Nagi, *pats*, he's so precious, and yet... so creepy. Oh well, I am totally rambling here, I have no idea why. Just enjoy the chapter, there is some fun stuff, so enjoy. Oh, and the last bit I wrote at like two AM, so it isn't quite as well worked as my usual normal day time writing, but I read through it and it is good enough. I start writing really short sentences when I get tired. And starting them with 'And'. I don't know why. I should stop writing late at night then, ne? R&R!! If you don't then I'll make sure that Ran and Ken -never- have that heart to heart!! See, I have wrath, you simply haven't tasted it yet!!  
  
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My hand had lingered for a moment on Fujimiya's arm, though my thoughts were suddenly occupied with what was going on in Willy Ng's. Both of our heads snapped around, focusing through the darkness on the lit windows of the seedy establishment. Funjimiya grumbled harshly in irritation and grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand from his arm and yanking me roughly from the hood of the Jeep.  
  
"What the fuck is going on now?" he growled, lunging forward, dragging me after him. I don't think he was even aware that he was still holding my wrist as I stumbled along behind him confused by the roller coaster of my own thoughts. At one point in our dash across the dark, dirty street I felt my foot catch in a pothole, twisting painfully as I lost my balance and tipped forward. I thought I heard something pop. I felt the slack between our arms run out and a painful jerking as my fall halted his forward movement.  
  
I must have screamed. As the ground began to close the distance with my body I must have opened my mouth and cried out in alarm. I'd always had a fear of falling. I expected Fujimiya to let go of my wrist and just let me fall, resuming his dash towards Willy Ng's. I was half right. Let go of my wrist he did, but then did the completely unexpected. He turned quickly and grabbed my shoulders, pushing me up, keeping me from eating the street. His hands felt like they had that day in the landing field, firm, but patient, not rough or angry. I felt his grip tighten slightly as he attempted to haul me back to my feet.  
  
"Jesus, Hidaka, you scream like a girl," he grumbled. "What the fuck did you do?"  
  
For some reason I felt my cheeks grow warmer as I righted myself and stood so close to the circle of his arms. I was thankful to whatever God there may have been that it was dark in the street. "I think I twisted my ankle. I'm fine, though, I just tripped."  
  
I caught the raising of his eyebrow and then he turned away, releasing my shoulders, jogging off towards the bar. "C'mon."  
  
I did the best I could to limp after him, little shoots of pain working their way up my leg with every step. It wasn't so bad, really.  
  
The sight that greeted us when we re-entered Willy's bar is one that I will never forget. The table we had been sitting at was demolished, broken in on itself. Schu lay, spread eagle, in the center of the mess, mumbling something to himself, his wild red hair fanned out around his head like a massive, disturbing halo. Omi sat, Indian style, on the floor his back pressed up against a support beam. He had a neat little row of whiskey glasses in front of him, all lined up in a semi circle. There were at least five. I wondered briefly how he could possible have downed four more whiskeys in the short time I had been outside with Ran. The red glow in his cheeks and the glazed, glossy sheen to his eyes told me that nonetheless he must have. Farf was too busy cackling madly to himself at the bar to be doing much else, his odd yellow eyes rolling around in his head. Willy stood, fussing over the mess, clasping and unclasping his hands, tittering to himself in Vietnamese.  
  
He stood over Schu and waved his finger at him angrily. "I told you! I told you, so! No, you cannot dance on table. Why you want ruin my furniture, eh? You GI, always make trouble me! If you not so good customer I throw you out right now! You cannot dance, no you cannot!" he yelled, his odd, greasy mustache bristling.  
  
Schu groaned and began to get up slowly, feeling his body over slowly to make sure nothing was broken. By the looks of it he'd had at least as many whiskeys as Omi. I remember wondering what had happened to Phi-An, the whore.  
  
Schu cast Ran and I a glance as he picked his way out of the wreckage of the table, and winked, grinning stupidly. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ran shake his head and clench his teeth. If this ever got back to base we were going to be in a world of hurt.  
  
Then Shcu reached out and put his hand sloppily on Willy's shoulder. "You know, Willy, you're right. I can't dance. But I'll tell you one thing," he slurred taking a few steps towards Omi, turning around as he came to stand before the kid. Omi glanced up at his with his big, wide blue eyes. "I can juggle."  
  
With that Schuldich stooped in a blur of motion, snatched three of Omi's empty glasses from the ground and tossed two into the air. It was like watching in slow motion. One went up on his left, one went up on his right. slowly. slowly. arcing through the air until they collided, shattering into a million tinkling bits.  
  
The sound of glass breaking was clear and crisp, like the ringing of a million little bells coupled with canon fire. At least that's what it sounded like to me. The rain of glass shards shimmered through the air, falling over Omi and Schuldich, getting caught in their hair. Omi cried out in alarm and ducked his head, covering it with his arms. Schu dropped the third glass in surprise and then began to chuckle, shaking his obnoxious mane. A few bits of glass were shaken loose and hit the floor with a light tinkling sound.  
  
There was a pause. A momentary silence as everyone in the bar looked on in morbid fascination at the one man train wreck that was Max Wolff. The spell was soon broken.  
  
"Oops," Schu chuckled, grinning like an idiot. Jei burst into another fit of uncontrolled, maniacal cackling by the bar and Willy just about lost it.  
  
"That it! No more! No more you stupid American GI drink here tonigh! Out!! Out out out!!" he screeched and then began to swear in Vietnamese. As he stood there swearing and shaking, so enraged that he was unable to move, Ran stalked purposefully over to Schu, grabbed his arm and propelled him towards the door. He then picked Omi up by the back of his shirt and deposited him at my feet where he looked up at me with those startled eyes of his. I held out my hand and pulled him up. When I tried to release his fingers he wouldn't let go, idly holding my hand and leaning against my arm. I glanced at him sidelong and put my free hand against his head.  
  
"Kid, are you feeling alright? How much did you have to drink?" I asked, pulling him towards the door. I didn't like having Omi hang on my. My ankle was hurting and dragging him around wasn't helping.  
  
"I dunno, Kenken. I had. a few, mebbe. Aww, but my leg really hurts, you know...." he trailed off, stumbling a little. I winced as I corrected for him, keeping him on his feet. Pausing I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Fujimiya was following us out. He was in the process of arguing with Farfarello. I wondered who was winning, but didn't stand there just holding Omi's hand long enough to find out.  
  
A few minutes and one bout of Schuldich vomiting behind the Jeep later Ran came storming out of the bar, Farf walking after him slowly, his arms crossed across his chest. I still couldn't tell who'd won.  
  
"Everybody get in the Jeep," Ran growled, pushing Schuldich away from the driver's side door. As he reached for the handle Schu lashed out and nearly decked him, but Fujimiya dodged him easily, Schu's actions slowed by the alcohol in his system.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing, Ran? This is my sortie, and I'm driving. Get your fairy ass in the back seat with the pretty boys," he growled.  
  
Ran made an angry sound in the back of his throat, clenching his fist, but he didn't move towards Schu. They just stood there glaring at each other.  
  
I kept my eyes down and pretended to be preoccupied with Omi. Did Schu just call Fujimiya 'fairy'? If so... then that must mean Max knew Ran was homosexual, or at least that he'd had a male lover before. What did this mean about his relationship with Max..? I thought back to how Schu had strong armed Fujimiya into coming with us.  
  
'You can't back out now Fujimiya... you owe me anyway.'  
  
Was I reading too deep into Max's words, searching for significance where there was none? Or was he keeping Fujimiya's secret... and using it like blackmail?  
  
Schu gave Ran a shove in the chest. Ran's hand lingered over the door handle for a moment and then he reluctantly let go and took a few steps back, shrugging coldly. "Fine, you drunk bastard. If you want to get us into a car accident, be my guest."  
  
Schu snickered. "There isn't any traffic, Fujimiya. What's gonna happen? A tree gonna jump into the road?"  
  
Ran narrowed his eyes. I watched the exchanged with ooded eyes and shook Omi's shoulders. He had collapsed against my chest and his breathing was a little to rhythmic for my comfort.  
  
"Stranger things have happened," Ran mumbled.  
  
"Would you two just shut up and get in. This place has ceased to amuse me. I detest it," Farfarello murmured softly as he hopped into the shotgun seat.  
  
Schu had quickly lost interest in Fujimiya and turned towards Jei. "You really are a psycho, you know that?" he grumbled idly as he opened the door to the Jeep.  
  
Jei only chuckled and licked his lips. "C'mon, Randy-boy, get in. Help the little ones they seem pre-occupied..." His yellow eyes swiveled towards Omi and I. Omi's face was buried in my chest and he mumbled against me softly. I realized, with a fresh burning sensation in my cheeks, that our hands were still clasped.  
  
I shook the kid vigorously. "Omi! Get up, we have to get in the Jeep," I snapped.  
  
"Wha? Hmm, no. I'm too... sleepy... Kenken," he murmured as I tried to push him away. What was with all the 'Kenken?' I began to become flustered and flushed as he nuzzled against my chest again and grasped at my shirt with his free hand. I knew it was just the alcohol that was making him act so strangely, but my thoughts over Max and Fujimiya had me in an odd frame of mind.  
  
Ran walked up beside me, opened the back door of the Jeep and then paused, eyeing me strangely. I smiled weakly, all too aware that everyone was taking note of Omi's rather childish display of affection. I attempted to dislodge him one last time, but failed. Surprising how strong the little guy was. Ran eyed us a moment longer, and I wished momentarily that I wasn't so distracted by the awkwardness of the situation so that I might have been able to study his face.  
  
He grumbled inarticulately and then reached out, grabbing hold of the back of Omi's jacket, hauling him up and into the back of the Jeep. "Ack! Izz cold!" Omi protested loudly.  
  
Then he motioned for me to follow. I looked up at his face as I climbed into the back seat, scooting across until I bumped into Omi again, it was set and impassive. The kid mumbled something inarticulate and then curled into a ball next to me, his head tucked against my shoulder. I didn't have the heart to push him away. Somehow his warmth was comforting, because the Jeep suddenly felt a lot colder.  
  
Ran hopped in beside me and shut the door, resting his arm on top of it. He gave me a sidelong glance and then poked Schu in the back of the head. "Drive."  
  
"Oiu, mon capitaine!" Schu cried maniacally. And away we went.  
  
The road was no less treacherous on the way back, and yet, despite Schu's inebriated state it actually seemed to me as if the ride were smoother. Or perhaps I simply wasn't paying attention. I was beginning to worry about Omi. Occasionally he would twitch against me and shudder, mumbling something to himself. Even though he lay perfectly still other than that I could see that his eyes were open in the darkness, staring straight ahead at nothing. Occasionally I would run my hand through his hair, hoping that I was comforting him in some way, but he never gave any indication that he noticed at all. I sighed despondently and muttered under my breath.  
  
"What's the matter?" Ran asked flatly, not turning his head towards me.  
  
I was surprised by the sound of his voice. I had been busy trying to drown out the asinine singing of Schu and Farf ever since we left Sang Cho-na. Their voices were grating and badly off key. And I didn't care for the lyrics either.  
  
I turned towards Ran's voice, barely able to see him in the darkness. I kept my voice low, glad that the horrible singing would at least keep Max and Jei from overhearing whatever we had to say.  
  
"Something's wrong with Omi, I think. He's just lying here, staring off into space. We should have left him at base," I said softly, touching the kid's head again.  
  
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" he snapped violently and then went blank again, huddling against my side.  
  
I looked over at Ran hastily as if to say, 'see what I mean?' Ran met my eyes and held them for a moment. In his eyes it seemed as if I found a darkness more than the Vietnam night. I wondered why I kept thinking things like that.  
  
He shrugged slowly. "Don't worry. He's been in the infirmary, hopped up on morphine for weeks. This is probably the first day he hasn't had any in his system. He's hitting withdrawal. If he can hack it for a few days he'll be fine. If not, he'll most likely become a heroine addict," he said bluntly. I thought there was just the slightest edge of sick amusement in his voice and it made me shiver.  
  
I looked down at the kid and slipped my arm around his thin shoulder. "Don't say that. He hacked it all the way back from the line to base. He can do this," I said quietly. It seems ironic now that I was the one to brush off the power of addiction.  
  
"Holy shit, what the fuck is that?!" Schuldich cried suddenly. Jei grunted inarticulately. Ran leaned forward looking past Schuldich into the swath of light cut into the road by the Jeep's headlights.  
  
"Someone's in the road," Ran said loudly.  
  
"Ten points!" Farfarello cried gleefully and Schu revved the engine. I sat up in alarm and leaned over the front seat to better see.  
  
"What do you mean?!" I cried. Ahead in the headlights I could see a figure quickly getting closer. It looked small, almost like a child, but I could make out the silhouette of a rifle slung across its shoulder.  
  
"What are you doing, Max? Are you fucking insane?!" Ran cried, reaching around Schuldich and grabbing the wheel.  
  
"What the hell, Fujimiya?!" Schu yelled, fighting with him for control of the wheel. "Don't be such an ass, I'm just gonna scare the little Gook bastard!"  
  
But in their struggle both seemed to forget that we were closing on the figure in the road. I stared ahead in horror, unable to form words as the walker turned his head, suddenly aware that the car was bearing down on him. Large, deep, terrified eyes reflected in the light. He froze in his tracks, petrified like a deer on some backcountry road. Caught in the headlights.  
  
"Shit, swerve already!" I screamed, lunging over the front seat and grabbing the wheel with all my strength. The Jeep lurched and I lost sight of the young man in the headlights as the vehicle began to swerve madly. I didn't even see the impact coming when suddenly there was an earsplitting crash, and a jarring sensation that threw me from my feet, free falling out into nothing. I met the damp earth with a less than pleasant thud, and a dull buzzing came into my ears. I lay still for a few moments and then I rolled over once and lay on my back, staring up at the sky. I could see all the stars. It was so dark in the jungle.  
  
Somewhere I could hear cursing and the angry hiss of what sounded like a giant snake. I didn't want to move. All my joints and my ankle besides told me that lying still was the best measure. I closed my eyes.  
  
A hand tentatively touched my face and my eyes snapped open. Fujimiya's larger than life face hung before me, and in my disoriented state I cried out in alarm, sitting bolt upright. Our foreheads collided and light burst behind my eyes.  
  
"Argh! Fuck, Hidaka! What the fuck in wrong with you?" he grumbled in pain as he rocked back on his heels. "I thought you'd been knocked out."  
  
I held my head and moaned. "No, I just closed my eyes. The sky was spinning. What happened?"  
  
"We drove off the road and hit a tree. We weren't going all that fast in actuality, but fast enough for you and I to get thrown from the Jeep. I wanted to make sure you were ok before going back to the car."  
  
I looked up at him and he at me, for a moment our eyes met awkwardly in the gloom and then I looked away. "Thanks."  
  
He grunted and got to his feet. I scrambled after him. The Jeep was only a few feet away. A large tree had managed to crumple most of the hood in on itself. The hissing I had heard earlier was the sound of spilled radiator fluid evaporating off the engine. Jei and Max were nowhere in sight. I figured the swearing must have been them. I didn't see Omi either.  
  
"I wonder where the hell they went so fast," I mused quietly to Fujimiya.  
  
He shrugged. "I don't know and I don't care. We are in so much shit. Let's see if this thing as any supplies in it and then keep heading towards base. We might make it before they notice we're gone."  
  
"What does it matter now? We might as well wait here until they come looking for us. Either way we're screwed," I mumbled. "What the hell was Schu thinking playing chicken with that guy in the road?!"  
  
"What were you thinking grabbing the wheel like that?"  
  
I stared at Fujimiya blankly and put my hands on my hips, unable to believe that he was trying to blame me for this fiasco. "We were going to kill that kid! We would have hit him, Fujimiya. Somebody had to do something," I protested.  
  
"I had things under control. I would have made sure Schu swerved. You shouldn't have done anything."  
  
"Bull shit!" I cried. "We were right on top of that guy, and Schuldich is just crazy enough to actually hit someone."  
  
Ran didn't say anything, instead he shook his head and made his way to the derelict Jeep. I followed him, mumbling to myself. There was no way this was going to be pinned on me.  
  
"Check in the backseat for flashlights and guns. For all we know this area could be riddled with Charlie," Fujimiya barked.  
  
I complied, leaning into the backseat through the open door. I reached out to run my hand along the floor between the back and front seats, unable to see anything in the darkness there. I hoped I would be able to feel something anyway. My hand brushed up against something large and warm, fabric tickled my fingers and as I reached out now with both hands I realized almost instantly that it was a body.  
  
"Shit, Omi's still in here!" I cried. "Omi, hey kiddo, can you hear me?" I felt around his body until I found his shoulder and then looped my hand beneath them, hauling him from the darkness. I cradled him in my arms, lowering him slowly to the ground, trying to see whether or not his eyes were open. I could hear and feel his breathing, but I didn't know if he was awake or unconscious. I hoped to God that he hadn't hit his head and had a concussion. I slapped at his face gently and shook him.  
  
"Omi? Omi?! Come on wake up!" I cried.  
  
After a few moments he murmured and shifted, opening his large, dark eyes. They glinted in the starlight and I sat back on my heels, sighing in relief. "Thank God you're awake. Did you hit your head?" I asked, leaning over him. I wondered if I could see his pupils.  
  
"No," he breathed softly. "I rolled under the seat, I think. I was awake. Ken... you're, so nice to me."  
  
I blinked and felt my cheeks flush again. I was getting tired of doing that. Before I realized what was happening I felt Omi's hand on my cheek and he leaned up, brushing his lips against my cheek... and then against my lips. It was the tiniest of kisses, so soft it was barely there, but so there it was undeniable. My heart raced and I put my hands out, pushing him away, not roughly but forcefully.  
  
"Omi, don't do that," I said flatly.  
  
"Why not?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Because you don't know what you're doing," I answered and then stood up, pulling him up beside me.  
  
He chuckled softly and then pushed on my arm roughly, turning and stumbling around the back of the Jeep. "Guess we gotta hike back to base then, huh boys?"  
  
I watched him scramble up onto the road. I was rooted to the spot. My face was flushed and my mind was whirling a million miles a minute. Everything was suddenly so confused. Life... war...everything. It was then that I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Ran was watching me from the other side of the Jeep. He stood very still and had the strangest expression on his face. I realized that he must have seen and overheard what transpired.  
  
Unable to think of anything else to say or do I just shook my head and smiled stupidly. "Strange kid," I mumbled and then followed Omi up onto the road.  
  
I was just about to reach out and grab his shoulder when out of the darkness behind us a shot rang out. One single shot, crisp and loud and clear. It was followed by a high pitched keening sound, the sound of a wounded animal it seemed to me. I turned around frantically and saw Fujimiya coming towards us.  
  
"Shit," I hissed. "Farf and Schu! That guy we almost hit had a gun."  
  
Ran and I exchanged nods and we both sped off down the road the way we'd come. I didn't make as good of time as Fujimiya since my ankle was still tweaking the hell out of me, but I did my best. By the time I got to them Ran was already standing by idly, arms across his chest. He shot me a look I couldn't decipher.  
  
Jei and Max were standing together, chuckling. Schu had the gun, which surprised me. I had expected to find them at the mercy of a group of VCs or at least one, if nothing else then under fire from a scared shitless Vietnamese farmer boy. A small form was huddled by the side of the road, breathing heavily and clutching at it's shoulder. I walked towards Farf and Schu, trying to figure out what was going on. It took me only a few moments to realize what had happened and that the figure was hyperventilating, his shoulder shot through.  
  
Gasping is surprise and disgust and limped past Schu, shoving him roughly aside. "You shot him?!" I cried, going down on my knees before the distraught form in the road. I took his chin in my hand and pushed the locks of dark hair from his eyes. They were huge and startled, dark and deep. Even in the darkness of the jungle night I could tell that he was only a boy, no older than Omi and younger most likely. He stared at me, unseeing, and continued to breathe in spasmastic, sharp breathes. At this rate he was going to pass out. I blew on his face gently, trying to reinstate a normal breathing pattern. If I'd thought he could hear or understand me I would have told him to breathe between his knees.  
  
As I huddled there, I wondered dimly why I was distraught over this boy. He was nothing to me, not a member of my unit or even my army, but I knew I couldn't let him sit there, breathing himself into a state of hysteria.  
  
"Goddamned Gook, shit yeah I shot him. He was hiding in the ditch, ready to ambush us. VC, son of a bitch," Schuldich spat.  
  
My outrage at my companions was quelled only by my concern for the entire situation. This was not the time to be picking fights with my comrades. We all had deep shit coming. But even so I could not stop the burning anger in my chest.  
  
"I can't believe you stole his gun and shot him with it!" I cried, whipping my head around to glare at Schuldich. "You don't know that he's a VC. For the love of the lord he's only a boy!" I turned my head around again and continued to blow gently on the boy's face. His erratic, hiccuping breaths began to slow and even out.  
  
"Of course he's a fucking VC," Schu spat. "He's Gook with a gun on the road to the base in the middle of the night. He's wearing the black pajamas. What the else is he going to fucking be?! "  
  
"A civilian, maybe?!" I shot back. I was angry I wanted to rip Schu's throat out. I hadn't come to Vietnam to shoot innocent people. If I even had a reason for being there it was to help end the war as quickly as possible. "This road is used by the people who live in the farms around here, you fucker! And every single person in Vietnam has a God damned gun!"  
  
The kid seemed to suddenly snap out of his daze and the next thing I knew I was being clocked in the head, any number of shrill, Vietnamese curses ringing in my ears. His small form scooted away from me across the dirt street and he tried to get to his feet, but fell back, unable to use his arm for support. His cry of pain motivated me to ignore the smack to the head I'd received. After all if I'd been almost run over and then shot by a bunch of foreigner idiot I'd probably sucker punch the first one I could too. I got up and moved towards him, holding my hands up.  
  
"Hey, kiddo," I said softly, "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm really sorry about all this..." I stood over him and leaned down, extending my hand. I didn't see the unveiled hate in his eyes until it was too late. He kicked me in the face.  
  
"Hidaka!" I heard Ran call out and thought it was funny that he'd care. Then my ears were filled with the sound of the kid's voice again. He was screaming at me and the only thing I could understand was, 'GI scum!'" But I think that about summed up his feelings.  
  
Schu shouldered me aside, as I cradled my nose. He pointed the gun at the kid's face and sneered. "Shut your little Gook gob, and listen to me," he hissed.  
  
The young boy seemed to understand the tone if not the words. He shut up and I heard his breathing begin to come short again. I saw him tremble violently, but the burning in his eyes never died down. I didn't have the heart or the patience to listen to the rest of whatever Schu had in mind so I limped away, back down the road a tiny ways until I bumped into Omi.  
  
"Ken! Are you ok? What happened?" he asked coming to my side. I noticed that he was limping very badly. His face shone pale in the darkness.  
  
I grunted and put my hand on his shoulder to try and steady myself. "I'm fine. I just got kicked in the face by a pubescent possible VC agent, but I'm fine."  
  
"What?" Omi cried.  
  
I shook my head and pointed over my shoulder. I could faintly hear Schu barking something. "It'll make sense in a moment. But what about you? You look like shit."  
  
He glanced up at me warily and shook his head. "Oh... it's my leg. It really hurts and... and my stomach too. I feel all achy and shaky, I don't know what's wrong with me," he murmured.  
  
"Are you gonna be ok, can you hack it back to base?" I asked.  
  
I saw him bite his lip and the fear that flashed in his eyes. But then he nodded enthusiastically and then took a few steps down the road towards where Fujimiya, Schuldich, Farfarello, and our new 'friend' were standing in the road. I watched him sway slightly and then collapse.  
  
"Omi!" I cried jogging towards him. As I knelt at his side he began to cry into the dirt, his fingers reflexively clutching handfuls of the parched earth.  
  
"I can't... ugh, I can't. All the way back to base? I can't! It hurts too much. God I just want to curl up and die!"  
  
I pulled him up, thinking idly that this better not be another ploy to try and kiss me, and held him against my chest. "It's ok. Oh, shit, Omi. I'm so sorry, this was such a stupid fucking idea. Here," I said and then propped him up, turning in the dirt and pulling him up onto my back. His arms tightened around my neck and shoulder and I wrapped my arms through his legs. His body was heavy and warm against my back, and he made a few small protestations, but did not try to pull away. We squatted there for a few moments as I readied myself to stand up, trying to steel my ankle against the pain. I felt him press his cheek against the flat of my back, the warm dampness of his silent tears soaking into the fabric of my jacket. Finally I got to my feet, feeling my ankle protest the burden. But I would rather have borne the pain for Omi than make him do it himself. I was always just that kind of person.  
  
He sniffed and cried against my shoulder blades for a few moments. "No, Ken, you can't carry me all the way back," he whispered.  
  
"I can sure as hell try," I answered, hitching him higher. He sighed and sobbed a few more times and then fell strangely quiet. By the time Schuldich et all. reached me Omi's breathing was soft and rhythmic, tell tale that he'd fallen asleep. Somehow it comforted me.  
  
Fujimiya gave me a long look as I fell into pace with the rest of them. I could have sworn I saw admiration or at least amazement in his eyes. He walked close to me.  
  
Schuldich had tied the Vietnamese boy's hands behind his back and was marching him along in front of us with the gun pointed at his back. The look of utter dismay and emptiness in the boy's eyes made me want to crack the gun over Schu's head. They hadn't even bound up his gunshot wound. Schuldich started saying something about having a POW to take back to camp, but his voice and reasoning disgusted me so I blocked him out.  
  
"Are you sure you can to carry him all the way back to camp?" Ran asked me coldly.  
  
"I don't have much of a choice. He can't hardly walk, and even if he could he couldn't keep pace. He's exhausted, and there is no way in hell I'm leaving him behind."  
  
"You could stay behind with him. Someone would be along in the morning to pick you up," he answered.  
  
I scoffed. "Without a weapon or anything? You said yourself that these jungles could be full of Charlie right now, and there is no way in hell I am going to jeopardize his life by staying out here."  
  
Fujimiya was silent for a moment. "You really care about him," he said at length.  
  
The comment caught me off guard and I stumbled slightly. I looked over at him and for a moment I too could not think of anything to say. "I guess so. He's the only person in the hellhole who I can are about, the only person who wants to be cared about, maybe. He reached out to me when he was still in the infirmary... I guess I couldn't help but reach back. It keeps me human."  
  
Ran sniffed disdainfully. "Were not supposed to be human here."  
  
"Thank you, oh wise sage," I answered sarcastically.  
  
"Look, Hidaka, I'm not busting your balls because I think I'm so much smarter than you. In this place nothing is certain. You reach out and your hand will be ripped off. If you care too much the God's will punish you and you will lose. It doesn't pay to get attached to anything here, because tomorrow... it could all be gone. I'm just telling you what I know from experience. Don't open yourself up... you'll just end up going section eight."  
  
"I guess that's a risk I'm willing to take. 'It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all,'" I quoted.  
  
He snickered and looked at me blankly. "You say that like you know what you're talking about."  
  
I fixed his eyes with mine and smiled dimly. "I do."  
  
"Well so do I. And I say, that's bull shit. Look out for number one, Hidaka. Don't set yourself up for a fall you won't be able to handle."  
  
I shook my head. "You are so... cold, Fujimiya. How can you stand to be in there with yourself? Blocking the world and everyone in it out just to keep yourself safe is such a cowardly thing to do. That's the easy way out. The hard thing is learning to love and lose and make that a part of life. Shit happens, but at the end of your life do you want to leave this world knowing that no one will be waiting for you in the next?"  
  
The silence that hung between us was deep and unsettled and even I was startled by my words. I felt as if I was saying them to myself more than just to him. Hadn't I closed myself off once too? Didn't I still have a long way to go before I got to where I was talking about? I felt like telling Ran we could work on getting there together, but I knew I couldn't. Nothing felt right, none of the words that came to my mind seemed worthy to be spoken, so I turned my face away and let the silence be.  
  
"C'mon, Gook, keep moving," Schu snapped. I watched him prod the young boy's back with the barrel of the rifle. He stumbled forward a few more steps and hissed at Schuldich over his shoulder. "Just keep movin'. You understand English, boy?"  
  
The kid continued to glare over his shoulder but didn't say anything. He only narrowed his eyes.  
  
Schuldich jabbed him in the back again. "I asked you a question, you little rice-nigger!"  
  
"If he -doesn't- understand English, Max, he doesn't know that you're asking him a question," I snapped angrily.  
  
"Keep out of this, Hidaka. Just like you slant-eyes to gang up together."  
  
"Fuck you, Wolff," I spat angrily.  
  
"Don't make me come over there a-"  
  
"I speak," the Vietnamese boy interrupted sharply. He glanced at me with earnest eyes and then snarled at Schu again. It was obvious from the way he was walking that he was in a lot of pain. He kept stumbling and lagging in the pace. I was worried about the gunshot wound. The way his hands were tied it must have been very painful.  
  
Schu immediately lost interest in arguing with me and turned to poke the boy in the back again. "Oh, good. Well then, you little VC shit-head, you got a name? Something we can call you, other than Gook, or is that good enough for you?"  
  
"Nagi," he answered dully. "And I'm not VC."  
  
"Suuure you aren't, Nagikins, sure you aren't. That name doesn't sound very Vietnamese," Schu went on.  
  
Nagi didn't answer, his head bobbed slightly and his feet tangled with each other. He cried out in wordless alarm as he stumbled and hit the road, face first, unable to stop his fall with his hands. He whimpered in pain as the fall jarred his injury. Schu almost tripped over him.  
  
"Argh! Get up, you little bastard," he shouted. The boy tried to pull himself up, but failed, his strength completely gone. Schu shot of a few rifle blasts into the sky. "I said up!"  
  
"That's enough, Max!" I shouted, limping over to him and the boy as quickly as I could. "I've had enough of your shit, you ass-hole. Now put the fucking gun down. The kid's practically dead, thanks to you!"  
  
He narrowed his eyes and began to lower the gun.  
  
"Put it down!" I screamed.  
  
The look in my eyes must have told him I was serious. Schu lowered the gun and stepped back. I seethed at him for a few seconds and then stooped, rolling Omi gently onto the road and then scrambled to Nagi's side. I untied the makeshift binding around his wrists, my hands shaking in fury, and then gently pulled him up. He grumbled angrily and made a half-hearted attempt to push me away, but his strength was not nearly enough. He snarled up at Schuldich an Jei, and then clutched my jacket the long fongers of his left hand covered in drying blood. He tried to drag himself up farther, using me for leverage, but in the end he only fell back again, his eyes wandering aimlessly in their sockets. His breathing became shallow again. I felt along his shoulder for the bullet wound, wanting to feel how bad it was. Warm, sticky, drying blood met my fingertips, the feel of blood-soaked fabric made me almost lightheaded. And the smell of it made my head spin.  
  
"God, he's practically bled to death," I muttered, laying him back and roughly ripping off my army jacket. Lifting him up I used the sleeves to tie it around his shoulder, hoping it would act like some crude bandage. I propped him up and looked into his eyes. "Nagi, can you hear me?"  
  
He mumbled something in Vietnamese and then closed his eyes. I shook him. "Shit no! Don't fall asleep!" His eyes sprang open again. I felt at a complete loss as to what I should do with him. The others were just looking on, offering no help, no sympathy, nothing. It made me sick. I glanced up, hoping for some diving inspiration, but all I saw was Fujimiya watching over me. "I don't know what to do," I said, ducking my head. I looked over at Omi, I still had to carry him.  
  
"Leave him," Farfarello's cold voice cut in. "We don't need another dead Gook on our hands."  
  
"I will not!" I spat. "This is all you and Schuldich's damn fault. I am not going to leave this poor boy who -you- willfully injured to die on the road to the base."  
  
"Doesn't look like you have that much choice in the matter," Schu sing songed.  
  
I looked down at the poor Vietnamese boy in my arms and bit my lip. I hated to admit it, but Schu was right. I was helpless to help him. Our Jeep was crashed, the base still miles away, and I had to carry Omi on my back. My options were zero. I growled in frustration and looked over at Omi again, knowing he came first no matter what.  
  
"I'll carry Omi." The sound of the voice jolted me out of my reverie. Fujimiya stooped and knelt beside Omi, lifting him onto his back. The kid stirred for a moment and then nestled in between Ran's shoulder blades. A wave of something I can't even begin to describe washed over me. I felt like I might start to cry. But instead I only nodded and lifted the limp, yielding body of Nagi onto my back. I felt the warm wetness of his blood begin to soak into my white undershirt even before I got all the way onto my feet. He murmured inarticulately and clutched my shoulders.  
  
We started off again. This time Ran and I took the lead while Farf and Schu trailed behind, in particularly foul moods. Not only had I told them off, but I'd robbed them of their POW.  
  
The endless road passed by in dim monotony. The trees all seemed to look the same and every stone I stepped over seemed to just like the one before. My feet began to sweat and I recalled Jei's first words to me about extra socks. I shuddered at the thought of what the jungle could do to wet feet. Omi woke up once and babbled in utter confusion for a few seconds before realizing everything was fine and falling back a sleep. Every once in a while I would jostle the Vietnamese boy to make sure he wasn't falling asleep. Having lost as much blood as he had the last thing I needed was for him to go into shock.  
  
Once he murmured. "Thank you. Thank you... I-I sorry I kick you." I'd chuckled and said I'd have done the same thing and then limped on, unable to feel my arms any longer.  
  
Ran and I didn't talk anymore until we came within site of the base. The front gates stood out in the slowly lightening air. I felt so weary it was all I could do to keep from collapsing right there.  
  
I turned to him finally and said, "Thank you, Ran. You didn't have to help me or Omi, and you did. Thank you."  
  
"What happened tonight wasn't right. Part of this is my fault. You said something earlier about being a coward, and you're right. If I wasn't such a coward none of this would have happened," he said quietly.  
  
"Because Schu couldn't have pulled it off without you, you mean?" I said, wondering if the deeper insinuation of my comment would register with him.  
  
He didn't answer, only stared straight ahead. With that we passed through the gates of Pang Nuan base, each burdened by our charges and our thoughts.  
  
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After thoughts: All for you... all for you. Hope you enjoyed it. Pwease be patient for the next update, I haven't really worked through the next part yet, so it may be a bit. *sweatdrops* 


	7. Crime and Punishment

Disclaimer: I have no right to do the things to these poor boys that I do. Nonetheless I will do them and you shall like it!  
  
Comments: Oh my God! This took so long to get up, ne? Well, like I said I'm at college now and I don't have oodles of free time anymore. That and my new friends are all like *glomp* 'let's hang out in Starr's room for five hours!' And then I have to march my ass to the top of the damn hill and up four flights of stairs where I promptly pass out until two AM. Yeah, man I'd forgotten how taxing social interaction can be! Well, such is life, ne? Anyway I hope you like this. I kept trying to get it done and getting interrupted and all that. But it is done now! Yeah! Man I am so hungry... I should have gone to dinner. Oh well, the snack place is still open, whee hoo, go college! Mmm... mountain dew *guzzles*. Whaaa haaa caffeine! Well, later all you all. Oh, and I have AIM now I'm 'Alaskan Otaku' *points at bio thing*. Please feel free to say hi to me online some time! I love talking to people online. *hugs Lilas and VulHashiba and Makoto and Fei* Love you guys!  
  
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Words ran together, squelching, melding, rising and falling like some inane tide. I could no longer feel my arms. I hadn't been able to feel my arms for hours. First I had to carry the kids, now this.  
  
When we had returned to base in the twilight hour just before dawn we had no choice but to take Nagi to the infirmary, even knowing that doing so meant signing our own death warrants with the commanders. The life of the young man Schuldich had injured depended on us taking responsibility for our actions. Omi wasn't doing all that hot either. Internal bleeding came to mind. We took them to the infirmary, knowing the night shift nurses would be there, winding down, readying to go back to their barracks. Suffice to say they were not pleased to see us. There was much confusion over the circumstances of their new patient, but I wasn't having any of it. Pushed beyond my limits mentally and physically I'd nearly had a psychopathic fit, words leaving my mouth that I'd never even known I knew. My tirade shut them up and got Nagi on his way to surgery.  
  
Ran and I limped lamely back to our barracks hoping to God we could at least get an hour's worth of sleep in before the full force of the fiasco was reported to Crawford. Just this once our prayers were blissfully answered. It wasn't until almost and hour and a half later that Youji came storming through the barracks, halfway dressed and hauled our sorry asses, Farf and Schu's included, back out into the Vietnam morning and then straight to the officer's quarters. We were lined up at attention. Crawford, also only partially in uniform, glared at us over the rim of his military issue, wire rimed glasses. His eye twitched nervously and then he stood. Much yelling ensued.  
  
The yelling continued until each of us had had our own personal bout of verbal abuse. I can still remember the way Lieutenant Commander Crawford's spit felt as it hit my face. When Crawford felt he was done he collapsed into his chair to fume and tick to his heart's content. Then it was Kudou's turn to yell. But that was not going to be enough for the Lieutenant, oh no. We were his direct responsibility. We had not only shamed and disgraced ourselves, but him and our entire company as well. He made this very clear. It was his job to find 'suitable punishment' for all of us. For the time being, marching us onto the field and making us hold full buckets of water at arm's length seemed to be sufficient.  
  
It was as he continued to berate, belittle, and generally abuse us to no ends, much to the amusement of the rest of the base, that I realized I could not feel my arms. And that his words no longer made any sense. He could have been telling us about the first time he finger banged a girl back on the farm and I wouldn't have known the difference.  
  
Moments passed. We stood still as statues, unmoving, frozen, taking the beating we knew we deserved. Out of the corners of my eyes I could see Fujimiya and Schuldich as they stood, staring blankly ahead. I kept thanking God that Omi didn't have to go through this. I wondered then where he was, and would learn only later that Crawford had designated him a 'victim of idiocy' and sent him back to the infirmary with a slap on the hand.  
  
When it seemed that I could not stand there a second longer without losing my mind, Youji suddenly ran out of steam. He stopped talking and simply folded his long legs, sitting down on the grass in front of us, head in hands.  
  
After a pause a hairsbreadth long he groaned in frustration, "Drop your fucking buckets."  
  
We didn't hesitate to comply. "Sit for God's sake... at ease, men."  
  
We sat, each of us giving an audible groan of relief. Schuldich lay flat on his back, arms still out at his sides as if he couldn't bring them in any longer. His hair stuck out around his head like a perverse mane. "Fuckin'-ay, Kudou, that was harsh," he moaned.  
  
Kudou snapped his head up. "Shut up, Schuldich. It wasn't nearly harsh enough not for the shit you pulled last night. I'm a far way from through with you. I still have to come up with your real punishments, but I'll tell you this much: you and Jei aren't going to be seeing Sang Cho-na for a long time," he spat, running a hand through his long hair. His eyes looked weary and to me it seemed as if he was as exhausted as we were. Youji was not a man who enjoyed being in charge of others. He took leadership too seriously and it wore him very thin. He loved every man who served with him and felt towards us a kinship, a caring even... like an older brother at times even a father. With Youji, the saying 'this hurts me more than it hurts you,' was true. He hated having to be harsh with his men, and was both angry and disappointed in us for putting him in that position.  
  
He hung his head again. When he finally raised it his eyes darted back and forth between Ran and myself. "And as for you two... well, I've got plans for you two. Seeing as this is your first major infraction, and knowing how these two probably coerced you into your idiocy I'm not going to ground you. But don't get smug. I've got something that'll do quite nicely for you boys. And I hope you -all- appreciate the fact that you are going to be getting to know the heads real well. The four of you will be on your hands and knees scrubbing shit out of porcelain for the rest of your lives if I have anything to do with it. Now get your asses out of here and get cleaned up. Crawford wants to question you in twenty minutes," he sighed. "What the fuck were you thinking?" he murmured under his breath. It seemed to me that he cast Fujimiya an especially meaningful glance before he got to his feet and trudged back towards the officer's quarters.  
  
We all stood and began to walk towards the barracks, Kudou heading away from us. When I was sure he was out of earshot I groaned. "Shit I can't feel my arms!"  
  
"Shut up, Hidaka," Fujimiya grumbled.  
  
I glared at him, but didn't say anything. Nothing interesting came to mind, so I let it be. But I smiled to myself when I saw him reach up and rub at his biceps. I pretended not to notice and limped on.  
  
"How's your ankle?" he asked suddenly.  
  
I glanced at him and as if to accentuate his question my ankle suddenly twinged and I nearly stumbled. "Fine until you made me remember," I answered. But for some reason I was glad that he had. I didn't tell him this.  
  
He was silent for a moment and then looked at me hard. "You should have it looked at. If it's sprained and you walked on it all last night you might have permanently damaged it."  
  
"You could have told me that before I carried a hundred and some pound Gook on my back for nearly ten klicks," I grumbled.  
  
I thought I heard him make a sharp sound through his nose. "If I had would you have done anything different? Would you have left him?"  
  
I looked away. "No, of course not."  
  
"Then why should I have bothered?"  
  
"Guess you shouldn't have," I answered as I shouldered open the door to the barracks. I stood there and held it for Fujimiya and then for Schu and Farf who had been lagging behind. Jei grinned at me and ruffled my hair as he passed. Schu clapped my shoulder and shook his head. Their affections seemed odd... out of place, but I was glad for them. Even after everything those two had done and all the trouble they'd caused me I couldn't bring myself to really be angry with them... not even Schuldich. He was a royal ass-hole, and I knew that. But it was something I could accept. He was an ass-hole I could live with, an ass-hole who was one of my own. I knew my place with them, and that made all the difference. Maybe that's why I never felt comfortable around Fujimiya. I could never figure out where I stood with the guy.  
  
Reaching my bunk I pulled off my boots, changed my socks and then flopped down on my bunk and groaned, laying on my chest, face buried in my arms and pillow. I felt Ran pause as he assessed his desire to get into his bunk weighed against the pain and trouble it was going to take to get there. Momentarily I entertained the thought of offering him a piece of my bunk, but then thought better of it as I imagined the look of utter 'go-to-hell' he would probably throw my way as a reward.  
  
Suddenly the bed sagged and it felt as if someone was straddling me, hovering over my legs. Before I could react the heels of two hands pressed firmly into the center of my back and pressed down. Hard. The pop that resounded in my ears and sent shock waves up my spine was so intense that it seemed as if my entire body shook.  
  
"Holy shit!" I cried, my head leaping up from my arms as the hands moved lower and pressed again. Another pop, not as powerful as the first, but just as satisfying, echoed in my ears. I gritted my teeth and moaned, letting my head flop back against my arms. I sighed.  
  
"Feels good, don't it, Nippy?" It was Jei's voice. I realized that I could smell him as he hovered over my back. For some reason I was disappointed. Had I hoped it was Fujimiya? Yeah, like that was ever going to happen. Not likely.  
  
"Hey!" Schu called out. "Who's fuckin' door gunner are you anyway, you turn coat, son of bitch. Get your ass over here and pop my back, why don't you."  
  
Jei chuckled and then whacked my back. "Yeah, yeah," I felt him throw his leg over my back and stand up off the bunk. He turned to Fujimiya. "Finish him off, Randy-boy. He's your pilot after all."  
  
I chuckled into my arms. Yeah, cold day in hell. I listened and could hear Farf start popping Schuldich's back. Schu, as always was rather vocal about the whole thing. I was just about to roll over and get up when I sensed Ran move from where he'd been leaning against the wall.  
  
"You want me to?" he asked blandly. I peered at him cautiously, lifting my head from my arms. I was so surprised by his offer that I could only stare at him, wide eyed, studying his face for some sort of ulterior motive. There was, as always, nothing. No flicker of emotion, no betrayal of thought. And yet... the offer itself should have said enough, right? Or was this just some comrade tradition that I didn't know about yet? Whatever the answer was I just lay there, looking at him. After a few moments he seemed to become agitated under my scrutiny and shifted his weight, narrowing his eyes. "Well? Yes or no?"  
  
"Uh... er... I guess, sure," I managed and then dropped my head back onto my arms.  
  
The bed creaked as he took up Farfarello's former position nearly sitting on the backs of my thighs. I stopped breathing. I told my body to stop overheating, but it wasn't listening to me. It was tingling, I felt bizarre. The whole situation felt bizarre. Actually that wasn't the right word at all, it was nothing like bizarre... it was more like... erotic. But that wasn't right either, that's not how this was supposed to feel, and yet, having Fujimiya so suddenly, intimately, close to me made me lightheaded. I was afraid I was going to start hyperventilating like Nagi. So I just closed my eyes.  
  
After a moment's hesitation Fujimiya placed his hands squarely between my shoulder blades and pressed down. "Breathe out," he said. I did. He wasn't sudden and jarring like Jei. It was steady, even pressure and after a moment my spine seemed to give way with a series of tiny cracks and pops until it felt as if the whole thing crunched leaving me with no backbone. It felt wonderful. I must have sighed blissfully without meaning to because Fujimiya sniggered. "Simple minds are appeased by simple things."  
  
"Shut up," I grumbled, and then added, "... thanks."  
  
He snickered again, but didn't answer. I had felt his weight shift, his body moving back, pushing down between my calves. I shifted so that he could sit at the end of the bed, his back pressed against the supports at the end of the bunk with one of my feet on either side of him. He bent his knees, planting one of his feet on either side of my hips. We stayed that way for some time. I felt blissfully at peace. Thoughts of impending Crawford were chased away by the strange proximity of his body. I thought I felt one of his fingers brush against the bottom of my foot, but pushed it out of my mind as either illusion or wishful thinking, which one I couldn't quite work out. But then all of a sudden it wasn't just one finger, it was four fingers... the whole hand... both hands... reaching for my ankle?! Grabbing, lifting, twisting one way then the other, and then pulling, as hard as he could. It all happened so fast that was over and I was screaming like a girl again before I even really knew what was going on. My ankle crunched and then gave a glorified snapping sound, a shiver of pain shooting up my leg. He hit the bottom of my heel with the flat of my hand and oddly enough my foot made the most delicate of popping noises and went completely limp.  
  
He dropped my foot back onto the bed. "Just as I thought. Not sprained, just popped out of place. You can thank me later." With that he lifted his leg over me and got up, walking away, his feet scratching along the barracks floor. I gripped my pillow and swallowed my tears of pain.  
  
"Oh... shit..." was all I managed to squeak out through my gritted teeth. If that was one of Fujimiya's favors, I didn't ever want to get on his bad side. I lay still for a few more moments and felt warm breath that was just slightly reminiscent of whiskey brush against my arm. I lifted my head to see the grinning face of Max leaning close to me. He was hunkered down by my bunk, grinning like an idiot.  
  
"Awww, wasn't that sweet? And he didn't even ask you to return the favor," he sniggered and then winked at me. "Better get up and get your boots on. Crawford wants to see us again."  
  
I narrowed my eyes and grumbled, "Yeah, I know."  
  
As the three of us made our way into Crawford's office I was pushed in first. It was thusly that I noticed Fujimiya was already there and caught the last few words that he passed with Youji in the corner.  
  
"No, Ran, I told you, there's no excuse for this," Kudou hissed darkly.  
  
"Youji listen..."  
  
"No, you listen, Ran. You fucked up. You all fucked up, I can't get you out of that. Now sit your ass down and take it like a man, or have you forgotten how?" the Lieutenant growled.  
  
Ran stiffened and drew himself up before the commander, swallowing the poisonous words I could see forming on his lips and then turned away, sitting in one of the foldout chairs that had been brought in.  
  
Jei shoved me from behind, and I stumbled forward awkwardly. Silently I wondered at the lack of pain I now felt in my ankle. I scuttled into the seat beside Ran and sat there staring into nothing. Crawford always made me nervous. He was like some volcano waiting to erupt... ballistic is the word that came to mind.  
  
Crawford took his time getting himself ready. He sat forward, sat back again, folded his arms, shuffled some papers around, adjusted his glasses, readjusted them and then finally sat forward again, folding his arms on the desk.  
  
"Why do I have a prepubescent Gook rice farmer in my infirmary?" he asked in a deceptively calm voice.  
  
We shifted nervously, all of us but Fujimiya. Schuldich and Farfarello exchanged glances with each other and then with me. No one could think of anything to say.  
  
"Well? Somebody better think of something to say or else I am going to start throwing things."  
  
I cleared my throat.  
  
"Yes, Mr. Hidaka, why don't you go ahead and tell us all about it? You were the one who brought the little bitch in," Crawford snapped.  
  
I paled, swallowing hard. All three heads snapped towards me, I could see how Schu and Farf were grinning and Fujimiya looked strangely worried.  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"Yes?!"  
  
"Well, sir, it was something like this. We were driving back from... er... Sang Cho-na... and... the Gook rice farmer in question-"  
  
"This isn't a damn court room, Hidaka, just tell me the fucking story," Crawford spat.  
  
"Sir! He was in the road, sir. We swerved so as not to hit him, sir. We lost control-"  
  
"Who is we?"  
  
"Sir...?"  
  
"Who was driving the Jeep, private?"  
  
"Er... Schuldich, sir... but we all had our hands on the wheel. all but Farfarello, that is, sir."  
  
"So... you were -all- driving the car?"  
  
"Um. kind of, sir."  
  
Crawford sat back and sighed, massaging his temples. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again, waving his hand dismissively. "Whatever. Continue, private."  
  
"We swerved sir, and ran off the road. Schuldich and Farfarello went back to where the Vietnamese boy was, confiscated his gun, and shot him."  
  
"He's a fucking VC agent!" Schuldich broke in. "Farmer boys don't carry semi automatic rifles on the road to an army base."  
  
"Wolff," Crawford answered, jabbing his finger towards Max in a lazy manner, "We'll talk about why you shot him later. For now, I want to hear the rest of the story. Continue, Hidaka."  
  
"Well.,." I looked at Schu and Farf from the corner of my eye before going on. "Schuldich and Farfarello proceeded to bind the boy's hands and march him down the road with us, not having treated his wound. At this point I was carrying Private Tsukiyono on my back; his injury had rendered him mostly immobile."  
  
"Mostly?"  
  
"Er... yes sir. Eventually the boy collapsed and I took it upon myself to treat his wound and bring him back to camp. I wasn't sure he was going to make it since he'd lost so much blood, but he did. I carried him sir."  
  
"Him and Private Tsukiyono?"  
  
"Er... no, sir. Fujimiya carried Tsukiyono after the Vietnamese boy's collapse," I answered.  
  
Crawford raised an eyebrow and swiveled his head around to stare at Fujimiya. "Really? You aren't known for you acts of charity, Fujimiya. But if Hidaka says that's the way it was I'll believe him." He then sat back and took a deep breath, taking off his glasses and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. He squinched up his eyes and then put his glasses back on. He stared at the ceiling for a moment and then exhaled sharply. "So let me get the whole story straight. The five of you steal my Jeep, steal the keys to the front gate, leaving it unlocked, and drive to Sang Cho-na where you proceed to debauch yourselves before driving back to base. On the way you almost hit a Vietnamese villager, swerve, crash my stolen Jeep, and then Schuldich and Farfarello in their drunken stupor maim the civilian, and steal his gun. Meanwhile private Tsukiyono, barely released from the infirmary and not even a member of any platoon stationed at this base, succumbs to his shrapnel wounds and most likely his lack of morphine and is rendered immobile. At which point Hidaka starts to carry the little shit only to later hand him over to Fujimiya so that he can carry the nearly unconscious, possible VC agent, in his stead. Both end up in my infirmary in the wee hours of the morning. Beautiful, boys. Just fucking beautiful. This one is going in the record book." He stared at us for a few moments and then began to rummage in his desk drawer.  
  
The pack of cigarettes was crumpled and rather abused looking. I remember noticing that Crawford's hands shook ever so slightly as he struggled to produce a smoke. He brought it to his lips and let it dangle there for a moment before going back to rummaging.  
  
"Hey, Kudou, you got a light?" he asked absently.  
  
Kudou had detached himself from the wall where he was standing. "I thought you were trying to quit."  
  
"Shut the fuck up and give me the light," Crawford grumbled. "I don't need this shit."  
  
Kudou grinned slyly and walked around to Crawford, holding the lighter beneath his cigarette. When he was done he went to sit against the end of the desk, arms crossed, staring out the streaky window. I wondered what he was thinking about.  
  
Crawford took a couple long drags and then looked at each of us in turn before continuing. "Well, boys, I just don't know what to say. You have handed me a rather sticky predicament. If Schu is right and that boy really is a VC agent, because it is entirely possible that that is the case, then I have a really big fucking problem on my hands. He's been inside our base, will have knowledge of our facilities and the layout, etc. I can't turn him away from medical attention (hell it's too late for that), seeing as he's been wounded by my own men, but then again if he turns out VC I could be court marshaled for aiding and abetting the enemy. If he turns out to be just another damn Gook farmer boy, then I've got another fucking problem to deal with. The Vietnamese government isn't going to be very happy with me and thusly the army over an incident like this. Sure just one kid might seem inconsequential, but you get the villagers pissed at us and nothings going to go right. The way I look at it I'm fucked either way," here he paused and put his head in his hands. I could see the weight of the war that he carried on his shoulders. I could see all the exhaustion and weariness in his character. When he looked up his eyes were bland and uninterested. "Why the hell am I telling you this? There's nothing you little shit for brains can do about it anyway. Get the hell outta here."  
  
He waved his hand in dismissal. We all stood immediately and began to file towards the door.  
  
"Let me know what you decide to do with them, Kudou," Crawford sighed.  
  
"Roger roger."  
  
  
  
* * * * * *  
  
I don't know why I let myself drift off like that. It really isn't like me. My hand rests limply on my chest and the haunted eyes of Nagi, the Vietnamese boy, still burn before me. It's hard to think that all of that is behind me. It was all so. there. so hard and real. Nothing is real anymore. This floor, my dog, my job, my house. all lies. Nothing's real anymore, nothing but Nam. Maybe that's why I keep taking myself back there in my mind, reaching out for something solid that I can touch and understand. If only things had turned out differently. If only I knew. Hindsight it 20/20 they say.  
  
I sit up abruptly as I hear the door to the back room snap open. I begin to push myself off the floor as I hear Mary call out to me.  
  
"Kenny? Where are you, hon?" Her voice is clear and resonating. Maybe Mary is real. One of the only things.  
  
I feel my brain tilt around in my head and for a moment my vision goes blank as I stand up completely. It passes, but I wonder if I shouldn't have taken a different pill this morning. Maybe I should get all of my prescriptions renewed... I notice absently that there is a ruddy stain on my shirt where my hand had been resting.  
  
"Oh, there you are, Ken," Mary says as she walks towards me. She smiles, but it fades just slightly as she comes closer. "Are you feeling alright? You look... disoriented. What's that on your shirt?"  
  
I shake my head. "Hm? Oh, nothing, I slipped and cut myself with the box cutter. Guess I got it on myself."  
  
"Did you bleed a lot? Are you feeling light headed?"  
  
"Mare, I'm fine," I say, grinning a little.  
  
She puts her hands on her hips. "You boys, you think you're made of steel. Flesh rips, you too can bleed, Kenny. Bodies are far from indestructible, they break, you know?"  
  
My grin fades. I think of the kid. In my arms, bleeding in my arms, broken. ripped. "I know, Mary. I know."  
  
"Oh, Ken, I'm sorry. I didn't mean t-" she says hurriedly, stepping closer.  
  
I nod. "I know, Mare."  
  
She brushe at the hair in my eyes again in that motherly fashion and then steps away, sighing heavily. "Well, go clean yourself up. There's a first aid kit in the employee washroom. When you're done you can man one of the registers."  
  
I nod. "Sure thing, Mary."  
  
She smiles and then turns to walk away. "Such a good, kid," I hear her mumble.  
  
In the washroom the sterile smell of the first aid kit, fresh gauze mingling with antiseptic cream, fills my head. It makes me think of the infirmary... gauze and disinfectant. All those pretty bottles, all those needles, all those broken lives.  
  
Before I know it I'm sitting on the toilet, head in hands, struggling to finish what I started this morning. Oh, god, but the story is so long... and I've never much liked the ending.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
  
  
When all was said and done our punishments weren't nearly as bad as they could have been. In fact if it wasn't for the way things turned out my life would have been completely different. whether that is a bad thing or a good thing I can't really say. Right around now my feelings about the whole thing get terribly jumbled. I think you'll see why, or maybe not. I may simply have been crazy from the beginning.  
  
Crawford never told us exactly what happened to the Vietnamese kid, and we weren't going to push our luck and bring it up. It wouldn't be for a few weeks yet that I would learn that he had been treated, and after a short interrogation had been returned him to the village and the people he claimed as his family. The army could not find any probable reason to detain him at the camp. Thus, as the days worn on, I was convinced I would never see the kid again. How I wish that was true.  
  
As punishment Schu and Farf had been grounded from active duty. Stripped of their wings for the time being they were practically demoted to maintenance crew. This was probably the worst possible punishment that Sculdich could have received. He swore and walked around base in a black cloud for almost a week until I pointed out that things weren't really as bad as they seemed. It was monsoon season coming up, and even I knew that we would hardly be active at all during those months anyway. Schu and Farfarello weren't going to be missing any action, all they would be missing were the hum drum supply runs and the freak out emergency med-lifts that took years off your life. I had a sneaky suspicion that Youji knew all this too, and that both would be back on active duty by the time the war was moving again.  
  
At first it seemed as if Kudou didn't have any other punishment in mind for Fujimiya and myself than the weekly scrubbing of the heads we were obliged to perform with the other two. When pressed about his intentions he would skirt around the issue or suddenly 'remember some paperwork.' So we were caught off guard a few weeks later when he called us both into the officer's quarters.  
  
He was grinning at us wolfishly when we entered, a dangerous gleam that I didn't appreciate in his piercing green eyes. He said nothing, just sat there grinning, a cigarette dangling form him lips, and then motioned wordlessly to the chairs before him.  
  
I hesitated and made to look at Fujimiya, but he was already brushing past me, sitting down. Ever since the fiasco day he was as distant and self absorbed as he had been when we first met. I had thought that maybe things were getting better, that he and I were starting to understand each other, but there was no evidence of that now. He hardly said two words to me in one sitting. I couldn't figure the guy out and it was driving me crazy. it hurt too. I don't know what I had thought, or had been hoping, but they didn't fit in anywhere now.  
  
"I got your punishment cleared," Kudou said languidly. "Sorry it took so long, but I had to have you two cleared through the board first."  
  
I didn't like the sound of that. I think it showed. Kudou laughed softly. "Don't look so shocked, Hidaka, it's not what you think."  
  
Funny thing was I didn't know -what- I was thinking.  
  
"We received a notice from the upper up or whatever right before you boys took it upon yourselves to go joyriding. The army is looking for 'volunteers' from bases near 'semi-urban' areas to teach English to the local Gooks during the monsoon season, if not longer. So I thought to myself, 'Volunteer, shmolumteer, this would be the -perfect- punishment for you two'. I had to have it cleared before I could go ahead and give you your new assignment, but everything is in order now so shall I begin?" his voice was sticky sweet and I could tell he was enjoying this more than he should have been. I think that if he had been given any incentive to cackle he would have.  
  
Fujimiya stood up from his seat, slamming both of his palms down onto Youji's desk. "What kind of crap is this, Kudou? I don't have time to be teaching Gooks their fuckin' ABCs!"  
  
Youji stood up to meet him and leaned forward, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. "You have time to do whatever the fuck I tell you to, private," he let the last word draw itself out slowly as he stared Fujimiya down.  
  
Fujimiya made a low growling sound and sat down stiffly beside me. Glancing at him I could see the anger blazing in his deep dark eyes, but I didn't want to look too deep, so after a moment I looked away again.  
  
I tried to think of something to say, but couldn't, so I stayed silent.  
  
"Look, this isn't that bad of a deal, ok? The worst part is that, heaven forbid, you two are going to have to spend some quality time together. Ran, you might be forced to stop being an ass hole and put some energy into giving a damn. I know it's hard, but try, ok? For me? Yeah. Anyway starting in two weeks every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday you will be taken into Sang Cho-na by a transport where you will teach English to whoever wants to learn English in some house down by the river. Class will be four hours long, and no, Ran cause I can see the question forming on your lips, you cannot alternate weeks or days or anything you have to go and be there -together- every single fucking day the class is held. At the first convenient point in the day after class the transport will pick you up again. This might mean right after class, it might mean ten PM, it's whenever we feel like coming and getting you," Kudou said, leaning back in his chair, taking a drag on his cigarette.  
  
"What kind of bullshit is this?" Ran demanded.  
  
"Look, Fujimiya, you didn't seem to mind going to Sang Cho-na a few weeks ago, so I don't have any sympathy for you. You two will just have to find ways to amuse yourselves. The base has more important things to waste duty time on that picking up a couple of bored school teachers, capish?"  
  
"Capish," I'd said quietly without really meaning to.  
  
Kudou swiveled his head to look at me. "See, there you go. Hidaka understands the gravity of the situation. Suck it up, Fujimiya."  
  
I thought Fujimiya threw me a withering glance, but I couldn't be sure. I was still trying to work out how I was going to go about trying to teach people with whom I couldn't communicate.  
  
As if to solve my problem Kudou spoke up again. "In a couple days you two are going to fly down to the transport way station down the river to pick up some touchy-feeling 'instructional educators' sent up from wherever it is they keep those people while we're out here getting killed. They will give you a crash course in how to be efficient teachers and then leave. I think they are bringing some field journalist with them, so be prepared to smile for the cameras."  
  
Ran groaned and rolled his eyes. "This is bullshit, Kudou."  
  
"Maybe, but it will keep you out of trouble. And your pilot from getting killed, so there's an upside for everybody."  
  
I noticed that Ran twitched and narrowed his eyes. He was making a concerted effort not to look at me. I didn't really care, I just wanted to get out of there and find Omi. He'd been oddly distant and quiet since the whole episode. I wondered how much he remembered about it. Sometimes I thought about the kiss he'd given me, his soft words, and the reassuring weight of his body against my back. Nam was getting way more fucked up for me than I ever thought it would, and that was saying something. I thought I'd left fucked up behind me. Maybe that kind of shit follows you around. Looking at everything now I think it must.  
  
"If that's it can we leave, sir?" I asked abruptly.  
  
Kudou looked at me and shrugged. "Sure if you want, but if you have a second I'd like to talk with you alone for a moment."  
  
I looked sidelong at Fujimiya as he rose silently saluted, which coming from him was more of an insult to Kudou than anything else, and then walked stiffly from the room. When we were alone Kudou got up, walked around the side of his desk, and stood before me, leaning against the lip of the desk top. We stared at each other for a few moments before Kudou spoke his mind.  
  
"How are things going for you, Hidaka? I haven't had a chance to really talk to you since your first day. You had it kinda tough for a bit, if I remember correctly."  
  
I looked up to meet his eyes and shrugged my shoulders. "Yeah, at first maybe, but I got over it. I'm here to do my job, that's what I'll do."  
  
He nodded and smiled. "Yeah, it's just a job in the end isn't it? I try to keep telling myself that, but... Ach, anyway. You seem to have gotten pretty close to that Tsukiyono kid. That's good. He'll be out of here soon, I think. Although he may have to stay through the monsoon season, something is holding his papers up. Anyway, it's good to let people in, even here. I try to tell Ran that, but... well you know the story there."  
  
More than you know, I do, I thought. I just nodded.  
  
"So... how are things between you and Fujimiya? I was kinda hoping that he'd lighten up, you seemed concerned before."  
  
I was beginning to wonder where this conversation was going. I shrugged. "Things are fine. There's no antagonism, but I wouldn't say we're close really. We do our thing, I can't expect more than that."  
  
He nodded slowly, the light catching in his long, wavy hair and then he looked up. "You haven't picked up any of your mail," he blurted out. "Is there a reason you don't go to pick it up?"  
  
I raised my eyebrows. Where the hell did that come from? I didn't even know I had any mail. "I wasn't aware that I had mail, sir. I didn't expect anyone to be sending me anything." My heart beat a little faster. I wondered if it was from my family... my mother, Kase, Yuriko... who? When I left home I thought it was pretty clear between all of us that nothing was expected anymore. We'd cut the ties. I was going to go and be and do what I wanted to, what I had to, and they were going to hold me in contempt for that. That was fine. I'd made my peace.  
  
"Why is that?"  
  
I paused. "I just didn't. I told you... things aren't exactly right with my family and me."  
  
"Well, it isn't healthy to let your mail just sit there. Go down to the mail room and pick up your shit. And do me a favor," he said, leveling his eyes with mine.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Read it."  
  
I smiled sadly and saluted. "I'll do my best, sir."  
  
"Dismissed, private."  
  
I got up from my seat and walked slowly from the office. I felt heavy and sad. I didn't want to see what was waiting for me, I didn't think I could take it. I'd left it all behind me on purpose. Why was it catching up with me now? I was in such and introspective funk that as I pushed my way out of the officer's quarters I didn't see Ran until he reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. I was so startled that I actually jumped. I hadn't expected him to be waiting for me, it was the last thing I'd even considered.  
  
"What was that about?"  
  
My mouth opened slowly, and I took a deep breath. "I have mail," is what ended up coming out.  
  
I turned from him slowly but didn't move away. I just stood there for a few moments, his hand resting on my shoulder. He didn't pull it away either, I was glad. I didn't want him to.  
  
"What? Hidaka, are you ok?" he asked shortly.  
  
I snorted through my nose and then took a few steps away, feeling his hand slide off of my body. "Sure. I've gotta get down to the mail room. Later, Ran."  
  
He didn't call after me or comment on my use of his first name he just stood there. I could feel his eyes on my back until I rounded a far corner and disappeared from his view into the maze of makeshift buildings.  
  
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Afterthoughts: Bwahahaha! Now I gotta go 'study'. yeah, suuuure. Anyway. Don't forget to REVIEW!! *points at review button thing* Do it now! Go, now!! Stay tuned. Hopefully I will get another chapter done at some point in the next few weeks. *sweatdrops* 


	8. Letters from Home

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to the characters portrayed in this story. Not like anyone cares.  
  
Comments: Ok, whee. It didn't take me very long to get this part out. I actually have a lot more free time now that orientation is over. Although I have a sneaky suspicion that I should be studying for my Hiragana quiz on Monday. Hmmm. yeah where did I put those flash cards? Anyway this chapter is kinda weird. You get back story! Yeah! Yeah, everything should become mostly clear about Ken's psyche now. See, the way I have this story set up in my head is in three parts. This chapter is the end of the first part. Yeah, I know, is it ever gonna end? The other parts aren't as long, at least I hope they won't be. AH!! And I did something here that I originally hadn't intended to do... Takatori clan cameo! No, they aren't evil, no they aren't the head of the VC, and no they aren't related to Omi. They are just there for a little comic relief... I hope. Anyway, enjoy. I hope you do. And please -please- review, ne?  
  
Notes: Yeah, no real notes. Except that there were actually English teaching facilities set up during the war, I am not just pulling this shit out of my ass, and yes soldiers were often recruited to teach them.  
  
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Behind the barracks of the 326th AHU there was an emergency stack of firewood. It was actually more like a stack of unused two by fours which resembled all the other stacks of unused two by fours in the camp, but they told us it was firewood. I often wondered why. just incase it ever started snowing? The ground around the pile was littered with cigarette butts and other miscellaneous testaments to the fact that it was a place often used by the soldiers. It was between the back of our bunkhouse and the back of another bunkhouse, making it feel enclosed and private, it was a good place to sit and quietly smoke a cigarette. I didn't smoke, nonetheless this is where I found myself hunkered down with my small pile of mail sitting ominously in my lap. I hadn't even looked at the addresses on my way over from the mail station, I hadn't really looked at anything. Next thing I knew I was sitting on the wood pile, hands shaking, wondering what to do next.  
  
You really wouldn't think that opening a few letters would be all that difficult.  
  
Taking a deep breath I sighed, steeling myself as I reached for the first letter. It was from my mother, her neat, tight handwriting, handwriting that looked like every native Japanese's english handwriting marched boldly across the front of the white envelope. I laughed finding it funny that the envelope was, unlike the others, still perfectly white. My mother was like that. Everything she touched was always expected to stay immaculate, and it usually did. Everything but me, I guess. I tucked the corner of it under my thigh and reached for the second letter. Yuriko. I sighed again and felt like tearing it up right then and there. I didn't want to have to read anything she'd sent me. It would be too painful, too brutally understanding and sweet. All happiness and love and caring. Through everything she'd never reproached me, never said anything harsh or gotten angry. Maybe that's what made it hurt so much. If she could just be angry with me, maybe I could forgive myself for hurting her. I slipped this letter beneath the one from my mother. The next was thin and crisp with the US Army logo stamped in the corner. Something official no doubt. Some letter to boost my morale or just blow sunshine up my ass. I almost tore it up and then slid it under Yuriko's letter.  
  
There wasn't much else for a few envelopes. Something from the IRS, I remember wondering at how they just never seemed to quit, something from some charity organization offering free counseling, and a flyer for an event that had taken place on the base almost three weeks ago.  
  
It was the last letter that I had been dreading. And as I put my hand on it, eyes scanning the return address, I felt my stomach twist and my heart beat faster. All the stamps were marked through with the seal of the Canadian postal service. the red ink was smeared and the envelope was bent and stained, but it was in one piece. My fingers trembled as they brushed over the return address. Kase. It was from fucking Kase.  
  
I closed my eyes and sat back, resting my head against the slat board wall. After a moment I let my eyes open and squinted up into the narrow strip of sky that was visible between my barracks and the one across from me. Without looking at the letter I felt my fingers move of their own accord and gently slip beneath the seal, tearing it open. The letter felt worn as if the paper had been handled a lot. I twisted it gently in my fingers before looking down at it, and folding it open. A picture fell out. I found it odd, but I was reminded of my first night at Pang Nuan, when I had tipped over Fujimiya's photographs and discovered his secret. Why was he always invading my thoughts? Couldn't I do anything, have anything without thinking about him? Why should I care anyway? The guy was empty, cold.  
  
I didn't look at the photo right away, it was probably just some picture of Kase and I didn't need something to remind me of what he looked like. I'd see him in my mind forever. Thusly I began to read.  
  
Dear Ken, I've been trying to write you this letter for almost all day now. My roommates think I'm crazy, because I've used up so many pieces of paper and thrown them all away. Fuckin' Cannooks, what do they know, eh? Ha. Made you laugh? Probably not. I guess I'd be lucky if you didn't just burn this letter when you go it. Knowing you and you're temper I wouldn't be surprised. Just thinking about it. about you. makes me happy. And sad, too, because I know you'll never forgive me. I'll never see you look at me the way you used to, never feel you close to me. And that's my fault, I know. I just couldn't do it, you know? I just couldn't! I know that telling you all this now isn't going to help, I just wanted you to know how sorry I am. I couldn't face you before you left, I couldn't tell you then, so I guess that's why I'm writing this letter. I let you down, I betrayed you after you laid everything on the line for me. I should have told you I had doubts before. well, before you know. Everything. Would it help if I told you that I love you? I do. I always will. Why didn't you come with me? We could have gone together, Ken. You didn't have to go to Nam without me. It's my fault that you're there, you went for me. But I never asked you to! I never asked you to enlist. My draft couldn't be avoided. I just wanted to be with you always. guess I screwed that up, huh? I'm selfish like that. I'm not as strong as you, Ken, I'm not a fighter. I wouldn't have been able to take it. All the guns and the death and the fighting. I know you'll get out of there alive, I know you'll be ok. I feel it, I'm sorry I can't be there. More than you know. Just. just don't do anything stupid, ok? Don't go and -get- yourself killed. I won't forgive myself if you do. Shit this letter is crap, but I can't tear it up again. How are you anyway? I know you probably won't write back to me. I'll probably never see you again, but if you ever find a way to forgive me, know that I will be waiting for you. Find me if you want, ok? Oh, fuck, I miss you. I miss everything about you. You're my best friend, Ken. More than my friend, you are everything. I miss the way out bodies feel next to each other. The sound of your cries when we make love. I want to feel you, Ken, it kills me everyday how badly I want you.. I can taste it. Why am I telling you this? You probably hate me. I would. How does it feel being a gay in the military? Hah, sounds cliché. Did you laugh that time? I'm so sorry about your family, Ken. I mean. shit, everything is my fault isn't it. If I'd just done what we'd planned and gone to Nam like I said I would none of this would have ever happened. But I had to let everyone know before it was over, before I lost you. You understand that, right? I didn't think it would turn out the way it did. I'm sorry if I forced you, asked too much, screwed your life over. But there were people who needed to know. Yuriko for one. It wasn't cool, her just not knowing, thinking it was all going to work out one day. I'm such a fuckup, couldn't even stay around to support you. Do you ever think of me without hating me? Look. I don't know what I'm writing anymore. I'm not coherent. All I can see are the tears that blur my vision and your face. What I wouldn't give to touch it, stroke your cheek, kiss you. I would die for one of your kisses. I swear I would. In case you care, or were wondering, I'm doing fine. I've got a place with a few roommates. They're laid back. I got a job, though it's hard being an 'illegal alien' and all that. My dad still sends me money every month, so I'm not worried. I don't ask you to forgive me, just. try not to hate me too much. I will always love you. You were my first, Ken. My first friend, my first love, and my first lover for that matter. No one else will ever come close. I'll be here if you ever want me for anything.  
  
Yours forever, Kase  
  
PS. I found an undeveloped roll of film in my camera the other day. I took it in. I almost died when I got them back. Do you remember this day?  
  
-K  
  
I had just sat there, staring at the letter until I couldn't make out the words anymore. He was such a liar! Such a fucking liar! He has the balls to write me, -me-, a letter like this, to profess his love for me. Tell me that he'll always love me. Where was his love for me when he ran away? When he left me alone to go to Nam by myself? He swore that he'd die for one of my kisses. and yet he couldn't even -risk- his life for my love. Where was his selfless desire for us when he decided we should tell our families that we were together, that we. that -I- was homosexual? Did he stay with me then, try to help me explain as my world crashed down around me, as my family disowned me? I suffered all that for him and in the end it was for nothing. He pushed me off a cliff and then just let me fall. He was too afraid to jump himself, he just turned and ran away. Ran to Canada. His fear was more powerful than anything he ever felt for me, love or otherwise. That is why I hated him, because he was such a coward. Hate him? No, resent him at best. In truth I still felt that I loved him in some capacity. If he showed up with open arms and begged me to come back, even after all the pain he'd caused me all the shit I'd gone through because of his weakness, would I go to him? I couldn't be sure the answer was no. But. no. He was no longer a part of my life. Never would be again. I couldn't forgive him for his betrayal of my trust in him. He was just a jumble of emotions and memories now. It was better that way.  
  
Kase had started an avalanche of pain and loss through my life. When the destruction was finally over there was nothing left but a huge, barren scar devoid of all meaning and feeling. That's why I'd come to Nam anyway. I was there because it no longer mattered where I was, if I lived or died. Everything I'd had to live for was gone. Vietnam was all I had left.  
  
With this thought in mind I turned over the photograph and felt my stomach drop out. Did I remember that day? That's what Kase's letter asked. How could I not?  
  
It was one of those pictures you take holding the camera up in front of your face to get a sorta close up. The kind you take with your friends when you're young. Kase had taken this picture of himself and I, holding the camera up as we stood together, kissing. the first time he'd ever kissed me in public. The whole picture was just our faces, so close, so happy, kissing. I remembered the day, one of the last days we spent together. He'd forced me to come to the park down by the waterside. We'd spent all day down there, fooling around, making asses of ourselves on the green. We'd gotten a lot of looks, but it didn't really matter all that much. San Francisco was, even then, a Mecca of homosexuality. Yeah, I remembered that day.  
  
As I focused my eyes on the image in my hands I felt my chest begin to constrict and before I knew it I was crying. Silent, small sobs, warm tears, hard breathing. It all came up on me so fast. I sat there, my head resting against my arms, which were folded over my knees, and clenched the photo between my fingers. Life gets so fucked.  
  
And then suddenly all I could think about was Ran and Yuushi, whoever Yuushi had been. Did they have a relationship like Kase and mine? Their story sounded so familiar. Yuushi came to Nam to be with Ran after his draft, just like I'd meant to do for Kase. But Kase turned his back on me, ran away, left me in the lurch after I'd already enlisted to go to Nam by myself when I could have been free from the beginning. Yuushi died in combat, like all the rest of Ran's pilots. The guilt must have been intense. I couldn't imagine. As far as I could tell both of our lives were pretty fucked. Ran and I had both lost the people we loved and trusted the most. His was dead, gone forever. Mine left me still loving him, betrayed me. Somehow he felt just as dead. or I did. I wondered which way was better.  
  
Then I started ripping open the other letters. Yuriko's was just as I knew it would be. All friendly words and concern. She didn't seem to care that I'd screwed all of her plans by being gay. Screwed everyone's plans, my mother's included. It was all such a sick joke. I'd never asked to be practically betrothed to the daughter of my mother's best friend. It had always just been assumed that's how it would work out. I'd thought so too, until things had changed with Kase. But that was ancient history. Such ancient history. The letter was brief and referred to me as 'friend.' She was a much better person than I could ever be. Oh, Yuriko, what was I going to do with you? She, too, had included a picture. Just a picture of herself smiling and waving from what I recognized as the Asakawa's patio.  
  
My mother's letter was briefer still than Yuriko's, and was written in dark, angry looking Japanese. The characters flowed and blurred before my eyes. She referred to me as the 'stranger who was once her son.' She told me to be careful, because it would dishonor the family if I died without resolving my conflicts with them. She said everyone was fine, and then signed her name. On the back, printed very lightly was one character. The character for love. It made me smile sadly and then I began to cry again.  
  
It was thus that I sat, my letters and photos scattered on the ground and boards around me, weeping silently into my knees. I didn't notice the clouds as they chased swiftly across the sky or the sounds of camp life go on around me outside of the world between the barracks buildings. And I didn't notice the sound of booted feet approach from the side of the building. I didn't notice anything at all until I heard his voice shatter my reverie.  
  
"What the fuck is your problem?"  
  
I had been startled, and my head snapped up. I sucked my breath in sharply as I looked up to meet the piercing gaze of two indigo eyes. But they weren't looking at me. They were ducked, focusing on the end of the cigarette he was trying to light. When he had it lit he snapped his lighter shut and dropped it into his jacket pocket. Only then did his eyes meet mine. I just sat there, tear streaked, staring up at him. I couldn't think of anything to say. I couldn't think of anything at all.  
  
"Tell me, Hidaka, what is your problem? It seems like you spend half your time sobbing to yourself, and the other half preaching at people about how they should live their lives. About how they shouldn't lock people out. So what the hell are you doing huddled behind the barracks indulging yourself in misery?" he asked flatly, and then took a long drag, blowing the smoke at me.  
  
"What the fuck should you care? You don't want to know anything about me anyway," I hissed. I wondered where the hell he felt he got off telling me that I was -indulging- in misery. He made himself miserable every single fucking day as far as I could tell.  
  
"What if I did?"  
  
I stared at him for a moment and then laughed shallowly. "Nothing to tell. I'm just a Japanese kid from the bay area." I looked away, hiding my eyes back in my arms.  
  
"People like you shouldn't be here, Hidaka," he indicated the letters around me with a wave of his hand, "if a few words from home gets you crying like a girl you should just ship out now. Go back home to mommy."  
  
I looked at him and felt like wringing his neck. "What the fuck do you know? You like to think I'm so weak! Why? And so what if I am? I have nothing to go back to. Fuck home! Fuck Nam! And fuck you! I'm not sitting here crying cause I want my mommy, Fujimiya. Vietnam is all I have anymore, when this war is over, these letters will the only things I have left of these people. I am nobody to them anymore!"  
  
I didn't catch his movement until it was too late. Before I could stop him he'd reached over and snatched the photograph from right between my fingers. I don't know why he did it, what possessed him, and I never bothered to ask. In the end it wasn't important.  
  
I saw his features slowly change as he looked at the photograph. At first there was confusion and then realization and finally understanding as he looked up from the image to me, back and forth with those intense eyes. I held my breath. I didn't know what to do or if I should try to stop him from seeing. I didn't figure it really mattered since I already knew the truth about him. I just sat there and let him look, wondered what he was thinking. After a moment he sighed and inexplicably sat down beside me, leaning back against the slat boards. He took a drag and then began to laugh, smoke swirling, dancing from the corners of his mouth and dispersing in the air. I'd never seen him really smile before, much less laugh. His eyes crinkled up in the most amazing way, the wideness of his grin was startling. I was so surprised, so entranced by his carefree beauty that I suddenly found myself chuckling along with him. I didn't know why. I couldn't find anything funny, except the irony, but that was funny in a painful way. Maybe that's why I was laughing and crying.  
  
He took one last look at the pictures as he began to stifle his laughter. "Guess that makes two of us," he said under his breath, and this only made me laugh harder.  
  
He looked at me and then dropped the photo in my lap. Ran seemed to take it for granted that I already knew about him. Maybe it was all the hints Schu had been dropping, or maybe he just figured I knew anyway. I thought about telling him that I knew about Yuushi, but decided against it. There was no real point.  
  
After a while he glanced at me and sighed deeply. "What's the story? Who is he? Is he in Vietnam somewhere?"  
  
I waited for a few moments before I answered. "Kase. A friend, who became more than a friend. We were supposed to come to Nam together, but he went AWOL, and left me in the lurch. Suffice to say he's not even a friend anymore. My family disowned me thanks to him," I said, not without bitterness. "So here I am in Vietnam with nothing to go home to and nothing to live for. I guess I'll just have to pray that the war never ends."  
  
He stared hard at me for a few moments, his eyes so intense that I found myself drawn into them as I had those times before. It was strange, I remember that for the first time I found more behind them than just the void. He seemed distraught, confused, full of an unnamable fear and an unbearable loneliness. All of this was to be found in his eyes, those deep, indigo spaces that I would find myself swept away in so often, that is where he kept himself. His face betrayed nothing, not a trace of what was inside. No, it was all in his eyes. Those endless eyes. I felt as if I was spying on his soul and looked away hastily, staring off into space.  
  
I wondered absently what he saw in my eyes. Was he even looking? It didn't really matter.  
  
Finally he stood, and took the photograph from my lap again. No words were spoken, there was nothing more to say anymore, at least it seemed to me. He held it out with one hand and with the other he reached inside of his jacket pocket, producing his lighter. I watched, unmoving, as he lit the edge and let it burn. The flames chased slowly up the picture, burning it away, eating it into nothingness. The wind took the ashes and scattered them. Before it burned completely he turned his hand over and held the last smoldering bit in his palm, letting the ashes settle there. Then he came to stand in front of me. Without thinking I held out my hand to him and he dusted the fragments from his palm to mine, I felt his fingers touch and linger gently on my wrist. Before he withdrew he said simply, "Or find something else to live for."  
  
I fought desperately to make sense of his words, to grasp at his meaning, searching for more than just a string of mindless sentiments. As his fingers pulled away I looked up sharply, knowing there was pleading in my eyes, but he had already turned away, he could not, or would not see me.  
  
He said nothing else, only walked away. I watched his back move towards the corner of the barracks and saw him exhale another thin line of smoke. I thought he might have paused, but then he was gone, disappeared behind the barracks.  
  
Then I had started to cry again. I didn't know why. I felt light and empty, something was gone, some weight was lifted. My tears now were tears of happiness, thankfulness, joy. With that simple gesture he had made everything so clear and absolute. Kase was nothing anymore, just burned away memories. All I had to do was find something else to live for, and life would go on. And so in the end I did find something else. Only thing is. what do you do when you lose that too?  
  
After all that I thought that things were going to be different. I guess maybe they were in some ways, but whatever I'd thought or hoped for from Fujimiya was not what I received. When we were alone together, which wasn't often, he was, admittedly, less reserved, warmer than he had been before, but with the others nothing changed. I guess that's the way things had to be. He was still the person he had been when I met him. Meeting me, knowing me, couldn't change his character, I was stupid to think it could.  
  
The flight out to the transport station was uneventful. The vastness of the jungle always made my head spin as is spread out beneath us, the river our only guiding light so to speak. Ran sat quietly behind the door- mounted gun, smoking and gazing listlessly out into the sunlight. We didn't talk much, there wasn't much to say really, but these days I found that just being with him made me feel better. It was that detached sense of kinship, I think.  
  
We had landed behind the far hangars and sat on the lip of the doorway, swinging our feet above the mottled and cracked cement landing pad, waiting for out cargo. The transport station was eerily empty. It was such a drastic change from the last time I had been there. God it seemed like an eternity ago that I arrived. It didn't take long for a group of lost looking civilians to catch our eye. Two older men, and to us older was going on forty, were sweltering under the intense heat, trying to look dignified in sweltering suit jackets. They looked comical, and Ran and I exchanged an amused glance as I silently pointed them out. Behind them another, younger man with obnoxiously narrow eyes and a look that belied a tendency towards violence struggled beneath what must have been the group's collective luggage. Behind him still trailed another young man, an enlisted man, a marine if I wasn't mistaken. A semi-automatic rifle, it was rumored the marines slept with theirs, was slung over his shoulder and a camera dangled from around his neck. Every few steps he would pause, bring the camera to his eye, focus on something, and generally decide not to take a picture. We watched them parade around in a disordered and confused manner for a few moments and then exchanged amused glances again. We hopped down from the Iroquois and headed towards the milling men. As we came closer I could begin to make out their conversation.  
  
"Don't you think we should just find a place to wait, brother?" the younger, more distinguished man in a suit asked, fanning himself with his hand.  
  
"What? No, I don't think so. Shut up, Shuichi, who's the senior partner here?" the other man, slightly more portly and with the most distracting facial hair I'd ever encountered answered, huffing up along side the hangar.  
  
"*sigh* You are, Reiji."  
  
"Father?! Can't we just find a place to put the bags? I'm can't feel my arms any longer," the sickly looking young man asked pleadingly, stopping in his tracks.  
  
"No, Masafumi, shut up! Don't make me deal with you."  
  
"Yeah, *click* stop whining," the marine bringing up the rear replied, taking a picture of nothing in particular. As we drew closer I could see that he had the words 'The Most Dangerous Game'* tattooed on his forearm.  
  
"I don't see -you- carrying any of the baggage, Hirofumi!"  
  
"I'm in the army, I don't -have- to carry your bags. I actually have a job that I didn't get from daddy."  
  
"Oh yeah?! Then why are you here with us now?"  
  
"Because, I requested this assignment, so that I could be with -you- dear brother," the marine answered.  
  
I leaned over towards Ran and hissed, "Dysfunctional family much?" under my breath.  
  
Suddenly the marine journalist spun on his heel, whipping up his camera and snapping a shot of Ran and I as we drew closer. He did so with such a vicious, angry, maniacal manner that I immediately felt violated.  
  
"Our ride is here already," he called out. All of the men paused and turned towards us. The guy with all the baggage dropped it and sighed in relief.  
  
The man with the facial hair hustled towards us, smiling a sickeningly false smile. I held out my hand, feeling it's what I should do, and nearly recoiled at the feel of his sweaty, greasy palm. He squeezed my hand as if he wanted to crush all the bones into powder.  
  
"Hah! Reiji Takatori, senior partner of Takatori Communications. World famous, you know," he said heartily.  
  
I was so distracted by his facial hair that I didn't think about what I said before I opened my mouth. "Never even heard of it."  
  
The man paused, his smile fading, his eyes growing dark. Slowly he let his grip on my hand slip away. The other man slid in next to him and took my hand in his place, shaking it firmly. He smiled, I liked him much better. For one thing his hand was dry and for another his facial hair was trimmed. "You wouldn't have. We've been contracted by the military to help set up the English teaching program in some of the occupied urban areas," he said in a firm voice. "I am Shuichi Takatori, junior partner, and this is my nephew," he indicated the tall, creepy looking guy with the bags, "Masafumi, and his brother, Hirofumi. Oddly enough Hirofumi is a field journalist with the marines, and has come to cover the development of the program in Pang Nuan. It's a pleasure to meet you.."  
  
"Ah. er. Hidaka, Ken Hidaka. I'm a pilot with the 326th AHC, and this is Ran Fujimiya, my door gunner," I finally managed to say.  
  
"Ah, so you are also the 'volunteers' for the teaching positions, correct?"  
  
I exchanged a glance with Ran. He looked like he'd started to block the whole thing out. "More or less," I answered. Shuichi Takatori looked confused for a moment and then nodded, smiling absently.  
  
"Shuichi, I was supposed to say all of those things, why are you always butting in?" the older gentleman burst in, his face growing rather red.  
  
"Because, dear brother, you were too busy being put out to get things moving," he answered and then indicated the helicopter. "Shall we?"  
  
I nodded and turned, leading the way. Ran jogged ahead to make sure there was room in the helicopter and to move anything that needed to be moved. When we got to the hold I saw the older Takatori Communications partner pause and fix Fujimiya with an odd look.  
  
"What did you say your name was again?"  
  
"Ran Fujimiya," he answered harshly. And for some reason it seemed to me as if their eyes locked. Somewhere a dog barked, thunder clashed, and lightning struck. I was just starting to feel uncomfortable when Takatori shrugged.  
  
"Myah. I think I once knew a Fujimiya. Common name though," he said nonchalantly. Ran nodded curtly.  
  
And that was the end of that.  
  
As we made our way back to base, the marine journalist sat jump next to me. The others huddled uncomfortably in the hold with Ran, who didn't seem amused when Masafumi was ill out the open hatch door. He gave me a look that said, 'I aint cleanin' that up.' I chuckled to myself and then concentrated on keeping the flight as steady as I could. When we landed I could see Crawford, Kudou, and even Schu and Farf milling around, waiting for our return. I knew that the two officers had to be there, but I figured that Max and Jei must just have been really bored. Either that or they wanted to come and mock us, I wasn't sure which one was more likely. It took me a moment to realize that Omi was there too, hovering in Youji's shadow. I smiled. Poor kid, I'd been so out of it lately, so busy that I hadn't been able to spend much time with him. He must have been bored out of his wits.  
  
As we landed the wind power from the chopper blades blew the grass back in ever widening ripples, and tossed Kudou's hat from his head, leaving his long, blonde hair to whip around his face blinding him and getting stuck in his mouth. Omi took off after it and in the process lost his own hat, Crawford started yelling, but of course I couldn't hear his words over the chopper noise. Jei and Max were laughing so hard they were trying to support each other. I wished then that I'd been able to get a picture of the whole scene it was priceless.  
  
As we unloaded and I shut the blades off, the rhythmic thwacking sound dying down to a pathetic whine, Crawford came forward, followed by the others, finally recovered from the hat escapade. The Takatori clan hopped down from the chopper, Masafumi nearly falling flat on his face.  
  
Crawford smiled thinly and held out his hand. It was taken and introductions were exchanged. Then even as the talking was going on the marine journalist guy began to idly push all of us towards the chopper, arranging us without our realizing what he was really doing. Before we knew it we were all posed by the UH-1 Bell. *click* Picture taken. I think we all know where at least one copy that picture went.  
  
Youji sucked air through his teeth and hissed to me, "Oh, he's good. Sneaky. I like that."  
  
Crawford looked more disgruntled than was necessary, I had the feeling that he didn't like having his picture taken. He stepped forward and ushered the Takatori Communications company away towards their quarters.  
  
Kudou shrugged and tagged after them. The rest of us idled by the helicopter, no longer having any pressing matters to take care of. The sky was turning gray. It was going to start raining soon.  
  
Omi pushed up beside me and leaned against my arm. He looked up at me, his deep blue eyes smiling. "Hey, Ken."  
  
I chuckled and smiled back at him, ruffling his hair with my free hand. "Hey, Omi."  
  
With that he sighed and rested his head on my shoulder. Ran gave us an odd look and then pushed off from the helicopter, heading away.  
  
"Hey, Fujimiya! Let's go play some cards, hey?" Schuldich called after him.  
  
"No," he answered flatly, still heading away.  
  
Jei cackled softly and then came to stand next to Omi, resting his hand on the kid's head. Omi looked up at him askance. "Hey, don't be getting jealous now, Randy-boy," Farfarello he called harshly, and then rumpled Omi's hair some more.  
  
Omi shifted awkwardly and tried to pull his head out from under Farf's hand, he failed. "Jealous of what?" he asked absently.  
  
At this Jei grinned at him, his odd yellow eyes glinting fiercely in the diffused light. "Innocence is so endearing," he mused and then walked back to Schuldich. They joked with each other for a moment and then waved to us and headed towards the rec center.  
  
I didn't say anything through the little episode, only stood there with my arms at my sides. Finally Omi stood up straight and looked up at me quizzically, then glanced after Ran and the others. "What was that about?" he asked.  
  
I shrugged, turning my face away. "I don't know."  
  
"Hey, Ken?"  
  
"Yeah, kid?"  
  
He giggled, "How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"  
  
I sighed. "Sorry. Yeah, -Omi-?"  
  
"I got my papers back this morning. I'm out of here in three weeks!" he said excitedly.  
  
I grinned down at him. "That's great!"  
  
He smiled and then it started to fade. "Yeah, but I'll probably never see you again..."  
  
"Don't say that. I'll see you on the flip side. I promise, as soon as this crazy war is over I'll come visit you in Chicago."  
  
"Whoa! For real?!"  
  
I nodded and put out my hand for us to shake on it. He grinned and grabbed my hand. "For real. I've got nothing better to do after all."  
  
He looked at me for a moment, his blue eyes filling with concern. His hold on my hand lightened and I felt him twisting his fingers in mine until he was holding my hand again. Why did he always do that? "You still haven't told me about your family. Before I leave, you promise you will?"  
  
I ducked my head and smiled sadly. It didn't really seem like that big of a deal now, not now that Fujimiya already knew. Well... most of it anyway. I nodded. "Yeah, sure kid. Before you leave. Promise."  
  
He squeezed my hand and then began to drag me off towards the far field. "Let's get in on that card game. I'm almost out of smokes again!"  
  
What could I do, but let him drag me along?  
  
That night as I lay in my bunk sleep would not come. My thoughts chased themselves around in circles, making me dizzy as I stared up at the picture of Yuriko that I had tacked to the bottom of Fujimiya's bunk. Seeing her smiling face, even though I felt guilty every time I looked at it, made me feel closer to home. Not that I particularly wanted to be at home, not with the way things were. As I lay there in the darkness I heard Ran grumble in his sleep, toss once and then gasp. The bed squeaked as he shifted his weight. Sitting up, I imagined.  
  
"Fujimiya, are you awake?" I hissed.  
  
There was a pause several beats long and then a stifled grumbling. "I am now."  
  
"No rest for the weary, eh?"  
  
He sighed. "Something like that. No rest for the wicked is more what I was thinking."  
  
"Mm. What do you think about our communications instructors?"  
  
Another pause and then he began to chuckle. I did the same. We lay there chuckling to ourselves for several moments and then tried to quell our amusement.  
  
"Freaks, all of them."  
  
"I agree. How are we supposed to take those people seriously?" I giggled.  
  
"Look who's talking, you're the one who giggles like a girl," he grumbled.  
  
I scoffed. "Excuse me?!"  
  
"Well you do."  
  
"And what about you?" I demanded under my breath.  
  
"I have a very manly chuckle," he answered seriously.  
  
Then we both started to laugh again.  
  
I took a deep breath and sighed. "I ought to wake you up in the middle of the night more often. You're much more pleasant this way," I commented.  
  
He was silent for a while again. "You didn't wake me up. I almost never sleep the whole night anymore. Dreams."  
  
I wondered why he was suddenly so open. Why was he telling me this? "I used to get dreams too, maybe you should take some of those anxiety pills... you've been here a whole hell of a lot longer than I have."  
  
"I don't fuck around with that shit. And you shouldn't either," he growled.  
  
I shrugged. "They help me get to sleep."  
  
"And they seem to be working so well," he commented sarcastically.  
  
"Tonight is different," I snapped. "I'm thinking about this whole English teaching thing we have to do."  
  
"Hn."  
  
"What do you dream about?" I asked suddenly.  
  
"I'm not going to tell you," he answered flatly.  
  
"Fine." I rolled over and pulled the blanket up to my ear. "Don't. Good night." Why did I even bother?  
  
The training went by quickly. Two weeks passed without incident. The Takatori clan was the source of endless amusement. Crawford got in the habit of wandering around mumbling, "Takatori is an idiot..." He was really starting to stress the commander out. He just didn't understand why we couldn't have a private chef brought in to prepare the meals for himself and his associates. After all he was doing us a favor. Ran and I did our best to just nod and smile during the training sessions. Well, I did my best to nod and smile. Ran did his best not to make it blatantly obvious that he was falling asleep. The best part was that Kudou had to endure the training with us, because he was our commander. And he didn't care if it was blatantly obvious he was sleeping or not. More than once we heard: "What is that idiot doing? Is he snoring?! This is not a joke, teaching language requires training and diligence! How will we ever hope to make the world a glorious democratic empire if all the heathens speak heathanese and not English?!"  
  
At this point I usually felt very frightened and wished I could run away from the domineering facial hair of Reiji Takatori. His brother spent most of his time writing things down on a small pad of paper and rolling his eyes. The son just stood around and fanned himself. I don't think I actually learned anything during those two weeks, except that Ran had a tendency to drool when he slept with his head on a table and that sunglasses were and effective way to disguise disinterest.  
  
On the day before they were scheduled to leave the Takatori Communications people, Kudou, Fujimiya, and I drove into Sang Cho-na to see where we were going to be teaching. It was a side room on a house by the river. It was cramped, dirty, unventilated, and generally unpleasant. I tried to imagine spending the entirety of the monsoon season in that tiny room with the one door propped open, but couldn't. There were a series of makeshift desks set up and a cracked black board on wheels in the corner. By the look on Ran's face he must have been thinking the same things I was.  
  
"Looks good to me," Reiji Takatori said glibly after about thirty seconds and then turned to leave.  
  
I turned to Youji and glared at him. "Kudou..."  
  
He put up his hands. "Hey, this is punishment, remember?"  
  
"I think we got the dirty end of this deal," I hissed.  
  
Kudou chuckled. "That was kinda the idea."  
  
Ran and I glared at him in tandem and then made to leave. The lieutenant followed after us. "Hey, c'mon, you two. Just think of it this way: you could be doing this with Jei and Max as well."  
  
We both groaned audibly.  
  
"Just do your best. It isn't like anybody really cares anyway. We'll just head back to base. Relax, and prepare for tomorrow," he said nonchalantly.  
  
We both rolled our eyes, but did what he said. I gave the small building one last glance before I hopped in the back of the vehicle. How bad could it possibly be?  
  
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* 'The Most Dangerous Game' is a short story that was written by Richard Connell in 1924. It is about a man who abducts people to hunt them on his private island. The title is a play on words having the 'game' be the game of hunting and also the 'game' as in the sense of prey. I thought this also worked for war. 'War' being the most dangerous game and of course once again man being the most dangerous game hunted in wartime. Does this make any sense? Anyway I thought it would be a funny little inside joke for anyone who got the reference and also watches the show, because we all know that Hirofumi is the guys who likes to hunt people... yeah. Ok, that was just my ironic sense of poetry kicking in. Ignore it if you will.  
  
REVIEW!! *points at review button* 


	9. Lessons

Disclaimer: Read the other chapter disclaimers.  
  
Comments: Ok *sighs* I finally got this chapter done. It kinda took a bit out of me. I think you'll see why, and if not then maybe I was just sleep deprived. Hehe. I hope you enjoy it. I mean... what would be the point of my writing it if you didn't? Or something like that. And thank you, Koneko Bombay, for pointing out my logistical time line error in the last chapter about when Omi was leaving. I went back and fixed it. It should be him leaving in three weeks. *whew* And that was really important too, you'll see why... *cackles* Anyway, please review when you are done, if you don't I'll be sad. *sniffles*. Read on.  
  
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That first day away from base, alone with Ran in that stifling, unventilated room with strained foreign, uncomprehending faces staring blandly back at me, was longer than I ever could have imagined. We left base around six o'clock. It took us a lot longer to get to Sang Cho-na in the transport than it had that night we stole the Lt. Commander's Jeep. The memory still made me cringe. It just so happened that day was an official leave day, so the transport was already crammed full even so early in the morning. It made sense, I guess. The boys had a lot of abstinence to make up for. But knowing why the back of the transport was crammed and unbearably stuffy didn't make it any easier to stand. At least Ran and I got to sit by the opening, we were first out after all. We were official. That's almost laughable.  
  
We were dumped on the side of the road that ran along the river. It had been raining the night before and the dirt road was churned to a thick mud which sucked at the bottom of our military issue boots. We each carried a pack full of 'teaching materials' left behind by the Takatori Communications crowd. We watched as the transport truck pulled up the road, splattering mud on a few lone pedestrians. They hardly seemed to notice. I remember reflecting for a moment on the dispositions of these people. I would notice later through the eyes of my pupils what a weary, dejected people they were. To us, the American soldiers, Vietnam was just a place where we fought a war. To the people who lived there it was their home. I could walk away from Nam, win or lose, but they were there forever to live with the outcome. Nagi would teach me that.  
  
When the truck was out of sight Fujimiya and I turned without a word and stepped off the road, cutting down a steep slope towards the foot path that led to the house by the river. As we walked he lit a cigarette, letting it hang delicately between his long fingers. There was something about Ran's hands that fascinated me. I don't know if it was their flawless appearance or the fact that every time I saw them I thought of their gentle pressure on my spine or their strong reassurance as they held me up, but I was in love with Ran Fujimiya's hands. Hell, I was beginning to think I might be in love with Ran Fujimiya.  
  
I had sighed then, annoyed and frustrated by my mind's tendency to return to tired topics. Tired to me at least who lived with them day in and day out. He looked at me sharply and raised one thin eyebrow.  
  
"Not looking forward to this, huh?" he said quietly.  
  
I shrugged, let him believe what he wanted to. "Sure," I agreed quietly.  
  
"Hn." He took a drag on the cigarette and blew the smoke into the gray morning sky.  
  
Class commenced at eight o'clock. We, as the teachers were expected to be there by seven in order to have some 'prep time'. I wasn't exactly sure what Fujimiya and I were going to have to prep, hell I wasn't even sure if we had a game plan. I guess that's what the first hour was for. The Class would run until noon, four hours, and then there was the post hour that Ran and I had to stick around for to answer questions and. stare at the walls. After that we were to contact base, there was a two way radio jammed into the corner of the tiny room, to find out where and when our ride was coming. Any extra time was ours, I guess. Funny, it didn't seem all that bad when it got spelled out like that.  
  
I dropped my pack by the cracked chalkboard and looked around the filthy room despondently. I could already tell that the clouds were going to burn off, which meant it was going to be sweltering in here by noon. Ran dropped his bag next to mine and finished off his cigarette before flicking the butt into the far corner and fixing me with his eyes. I looked up to meet them and then looked away again. His eyes always made me gun-shy.  
  
"So, now what?" I asked under my breath.  
  
I sensed more that saw him shrug. He grumbled something that I didn't catch so I turned my head. He was peering at the far door, attention fixed on some point.  
  
"What are you looking at?" I asked coming to stand beside him.  
  
He shrugged. "Someone just walked behind that shrub."  
  
"Just some farmer taking a piss," I answered, squinting.  
  
"Maybe. Go check it out."  
  
I stared at him incredulously. "Why me?" I scoffed.  
  
He looked at me sharply and this time I could not pull my eyes away. "Would you rather I go and leave you to make up a lesson plan?"  
  
I narrowed my eyes and grumbled. "Fine. I'll go look."  
  
It was actually a bit of a relief to get out of that grubby little lean to. The air was clean from the past night's rain and that early in the morning it was still cool enough to be pleasant. So I left Ran to do the planning and jogged down the slope towards the river and the shrub where 'somebody' had walked. I remember thinking that Ran was an idiot for caring that there was somebody there. It was probably one of the students who got there early and was too shy, or too afraid, to face us alone so early before class. Oh well, might as well humor him. Like I said, it got me out of that room.  
  
As I rounded the corner of the bush there was a startled scrambling and a muffled cry as I nearly stepped on the small form squatting in the damp grass. A pair of huge, frightened brown eyes looked up at me, choppy dark hair falling erratically before them. I realized in an instant that I knew this boy, even though the last time I had seen him it was close to pitch black. I recognized those dazed eyes as the same ones I had seen caught in the headlights of the Commander's Jeep.  
  
As I stood there looking down at him, he seemed to swallow half his tongue and started to scramble away from me, trying to crabwalk across the slippery grass. He failed and fell back onto his elbows still staring up at me. Caught off guard, I just stood there staring at him staring at me. I remember Nagi, seeing him for the first time in daylight, as being a rather scrawny, sickly looking Vietnamese kid. His eyes were too large for his face, making him appear perversely innocent, and terminally startled. His hair was dark and fell into his eyes, making him appear even more cowed. He kept his eyes turned away from people unless addressed specifically. He seemed haunted. And I knew that there were things Nagi had seen that no child should have to see. If I had to guess I would have said he was fifteen or sixteen, but it was hard to tell.  
  
When my wits finally returned I flashed him a friendly smile and hunkered down beside him. I held out my hand, leaning forward slightly. As I did so my dog tags swung out from the open front of my jacket and clinked together. His eyes unconsciously swiveled, fixed upon the glinting metal. He stared at them with wide, fascinated eyes until I finally drew him back.  
  
"Nagi?" I said softly. "That's you name, right?" His head snapped up, and he stared at me intently. I smiled again and pushed my hand forward, reasserting its intent. He nodded dully, casting his eyes down, looking away from me. "I'm Ken. I won't bite, take my hand."  
  
He shied away a little more and then tentatively reached across his body to take my hand. His grip was limp and clammy. He seemed nervous, not that I could blame him. He probably didn't remember me from Schuldich. Or from a hole in the ground for that matter.  
  
"Do you remember me?" I asked slowly.  
  
He had looked at me blankly for a few moments, his dark eyes reflecting the light. He pulled his hand away from mind before he finally spoke. "Yes. I kicked your face... you.....," here he paused as if searching for a word, "lifted me. Yes, I think so."  
  
I chuckled. "'Carried' is what you wanted to say. 'Lifted' works, but.....," I shook my head. He nodded and looked away again. He glanced at the river and then to the far side of the hedge row we were squatting behind. I wondered what he was looking for. Maybe just trying to avoid seeing me.  
  
"How is your shoulder?" I asked, touching his arm gently.  
  
This time he did not bother to look up again. "It heals. The... American doctors were kind."  
  
I sat down beside him and sighed. He was surprised by my movement, flashing me with those malnutritioned eyes again. "I'm really sorry about what happened to you. Those soldiers had no excuse for what they did. They were... drunk, but that's still no excuse. I hope you realize that not all GIs are like them."  
  
"It does not matter what 'all GIs' are like. Perhaps you are not evil people... but together... you destroy everything. Vietnam is a country, it is not a war. But... it is a truth of all people... when they are all at once there is no conscience. Between them what is of more strength is correct," he said quietly, still looking away. I could hear the anger in his voice.  
  
I looked down towards the river. "'Might makes right.' That's what you are trying to say. I guess when we get together it's easiest to just go with the flow."  
  
He nodded. "Hmm. You... acted apart for my goodness. So I will thank you."  
  
I chuckled. He had just contradicted himself, I think. Or maybe I just wasn't understanding his point in the first place. "You don't make much sense, kid."  
  
"Nothing does."  
  
I laughed and got up, brushing at my pants. I turned and held my hand out to him again to help him up. He looked at me quizzically. "Are you coming to class? That's why you're here right?"  
  
He blinked. "Class..?"  
  
"The English class. One of my colleagues and I are teaching it. Aren't you down here to come? You should, I think we could use the help from someone who knows both languages already," I laughed, smiling at him.  
  
He took my hand and I pulled him up. I was surprised at how short he was. He seemed taller that he actually was, but that was probably due to the thinness of his frame. He tried to pull his hand away but I held it firmly in my grasp. "I'm not taking no for an answer. Just come for today at least."  
  
He looked like he was going to panic. He looked around worriedly as if someone might be watching. He struck me as odd. "Bu-but... I have to... I have things I should be doing."  
  
"Like sitting behind a bush? Why are you down here if not to come to the class?" I asked in all innocence.  
  
His eyes widened and his mouth fell open slightly. After a moment he looked down and his shoulders slumped, sagging as if under a great weight. "Alright," he said softly, "I will come. You are right, that must be why I am here."  
  
He really didn't make any sense.  
  
I led him up the hill. He lagged along behind me, arms across his chest, head down.  
  
"Look who I found," I called to Ran as we entered the building. He was sitting at the small, makeshift desk shoved against the front wall. He looked up with bland eyes and fixed them on Nagi.  
  
"Isn't that the Gook brat Schuldich shot?" he said bluntly.  
  
"Your powers of tact and grace never cease to amaze me Fujimiya," I sighed sarcastically.  
  
"Well, isn't it?"  
  
"In a word, yes. Nagi, remember?"  
  
Ran nodded and then peered intently at the young Vietnamese boy. "Are you coming to the class?"  
  
Nagi did not meet his eyes, only stared at his hands. "Ken has asked me to."  
  
"It was him behind the bush," I interjected.  
  
"Obviously," Ran replied.  
  
So the morning went. Slowly as it drew closer to eight o'clock more tentative and in some cases ragged individuals shuffled down the dirt path to the makeshift school house. I noted that several of them were prostitutes, they probably figured that being able to say more than 'me love you long time' would boost business. Personally I don't think the soldiers gave a damn. As they entered some of them threw wary glances at Ran and me, and they all talked and whispered amongst themselves. Some greeted Nagi as they came in and talked to him behind their hands. I wondered why they bothered since they knew perfectly well that neither Ran nor I could understand Vietnamese. Then again... maybe the didn't know this. Maybe they assumed that the army would have been smart enough to assign teachers who at least have some understanding of their language. I found that the army was often given more credit that it deserved.  
  
With the help of Nagi we managed to muddle through that first morning. I tried to scribble down bastardized English versions of everyone's names as we went around the room. I would later find this to be of little use since the attendance varied so much the class was hardly ever the exact same group of people. I divided the class into two sections: those who could speak no English and those who could speak at least some English. For the first few weeks we asked the speakers to help us get the non speakers caught up. Well... this is what I was doing. Ran was grunting and scrawling the alphabet in ugly block letters on the cracked black board. I paused and asked him if he thought it was necessary to do so. An argument about whether or not we were actually supposed to be teaching them to read and write as well or just to speak ensued. Ran said that reading and writing was imperative and I argued that conversational English was the only really important matter at the time.  
  
The entire class seemed amazed by our sudden outburst and watched us with fascinated expressions and we spat back and forth. Finally Nagi tugged at my sleeve and pointed out that class was going nowhere. I sheepishly apologized, breaking off the argument. Ran on the other hand grumbled and went back to scrawling.  
  
By the end of the day I felt as if I had accomplished nothing. Blank faces and confusion were all that met my attempts to communicate and convey any knowledge. I was beginning to wonder if I should have actually paid attention to the Takatoris.  
  
When the room had emptied out just shortly after noon, no one except a couple prostitutes had bothered to hang around to ask question, and their questions hadn't been about English. I noticed that Nagi was lingering near the desk where Ran was making notes to himself. What ever happened to his 'lesson plan' anyway? Sighing I walked up beside the small boy and leaned against the desk. "Thanks for your help."  
  
He nodded his head slowly and then opened his mouth, "It was not any bother."  
  
"Will you be back again on Wednesday?" I asked hopefully.  
  
He looked at me and then bit his lip. "Perhaps. I will see."  
  
"We'd really appreciate it, Nagi," I said. "It's like trying to herd cats in here."  
  
He stifled a giggle. "I think you are not used to teaching. It will get easier, I think."  
  
"I hope so," I sighed. "Hey, Ran, call base and see what time the transport is coming tonight."  
  
He looked up. "It won't be until late. It's a leave day, so the boys will want to be out for as long as possible."  
  
"Well call anyway. I mean what are we going to do until then? Just spend the day in town?"  
  
He shrugged. "I guess. Or stay here. Pick your poison."  
  
I grumbled. "Town. At least we can get something to drink."  
  
I remember Nagi's head whipping around as I said this. His eyes looked panicked and he opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He took a few quavering breathes and then looked away again. I looked at him curiously.  
  
"What was that about?" I asked.  
  
He shrugged. "Nothing... only... maybe you should just stay here. What if one of the students comes back and has a question?"  
  
Ran snorted. "That's not our problem anymore. Class is over."  
  
Callous as it may seem I tended to agree. I told Nagi as much. He sighed and shrugged.  
  
Ran got up and went to call the base, turning the dials on the two way radio until he got a clear signal. I remember wondering at how intently Nagi watched him, his large eyes darting and catching every movement Ran made. There was something about the kid... he was odd.  
  
"They aren't coming until nine," Ran reported after he's clicked off the radio. "We'll have to wait around until then."  
  
I sighed. Staying in this hole was not my idea of a good time, neither was drinking and whoring for that matter, which seriously limited my recreational opportunities in Sang Cho-na. "Well, let's head towards town, this place is too depressing. And too hot," I added trying to fan myself with my hand.  
  
Nagi twitched slightly and looked at me with those eyes of his. I looked back and smiled, a thought occurring to me. "Hey, kiddo, what do you say you come with us and we buy you a drink? Just to thank you for helping us out even after all the shit we've caused you."  
  
He blanched, but then something flashed through his eyes and he took a deep breath, nodding slowly. "Yes. I will do this."  
  
I smiled. Ran grunted. We got our packs together, leaving most of the books behind, and left the tiny room.  
  
It was about a quarter of a mile from the school post to the main part of the grubby little town. I spent most of the time trying to engage Nagi in conversation, asking him about his family, how he had learned English, etc... But he was distracted and only answered in short little sentences. He kept asking me what time it was. I told him that maybe a watch would be a better thank you gift than a drink. He didn't laugh. Ran spent the time smoking and doing a really wonderful job of not talking to anyone. Unfortunately I had been right about the clouds burning off. As we walked the high afternoon sun started frying brains. It was times like these that I cursed my dark haired ancestors.  
  
"Which way is it, Fujimiya?" I asked as we paused at the crossing of two dirty streets. I was amazed by the jumble of people making their way around the city. I couldn't think of anything that these people could be doing in the town. Bicyclists sped their way up the streets, tall women in wide brimmed hats and traditional Vietnamese dress made their way between the buildings, groups of filthy children ran to and fro shouting to each other, and here and there were enlisted me making their way through the crowds, trying to enjoy their day off duty. It was a zoo. The heat, combined with all the pushing, shoving, sweating bodies created a rather unlovely smell. Oh, Vietnam, how lovely were thy shores.  
  
"Which way is what?"  
  
"Willy Ng's," I snapped. "Where else are we supposed to get a drink in this god forsaken place?"  
  
"It's up that way. I'll lead."  
  
And he did. Nagi and I followed behind him and I realized as we pushed through a crowd of people that he had grabbed a fistful of my jacket and was holding on as if for dear life. I looked down at him. "What are you doing?"  
  
"Too many people. I don't want to have a separation occur," he cried above the noise of the street. I guess that made sense. Looking forward into the crowd I suddenly realized that I was in danger of getting separated from Ran. His red head bobbed conspicuously above the crowd of dark hair, but it seemed as if the crowd was intent on filling up the gap between us, closing us off from each other.  
  
And then, as Nagi tugged sharply on my jacket, crying, "This way, Ken," I lost sight of him all together.  
  
"But Ran didn't turn this way!" I shouted back.  
  
"We will catch up, I want to show you something!" he cried. At this point he was dragging me against the flow of people down a very narrow street.  
  
"I don't want to lose him!" I cried, trying to pull away, but it was as if he had planted his feet.  
  
"No, just come this way for a moment," he answered rather breathlessly. I wouldn't let him pull me any farther and he wouldn't let me pull him back the way we came so we stood there in a stale mate. The sea of people parted and flowed around us. All of a sudden there was a touch on my shoulder. I turned and there was Ran, looking at me curiously.  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"He pulled me this way," I said pointing at Nagi.  
  
The young man scowled at Ran and tugged sharply on my sleeve. "I wanted to show -him- something. You can go ahead, we will catch up," he said in a very hard sounding voice.  
  
Ran narrowed his eyes at the boy and shook his head. "Not a chance. I go where he goes."  
  
I smiled. For some reason just hearing Ran say that was both funny and... meaningful.  
  
Nagi grimaced but gave in. "I don't care. Only come on... what time is it?!" he asked suddenly, and then as if in answer the one o'clock bell chimed out from the mission tower. The soft, deep sound of the bell rang out over the mindless droning of the crowd, it felt golden, it was a pleasant sound.  
  
Then suddenly, as if in answer to the pure tone, a ripping, shattering boom broke the air. It was the sound of an explosion, like a shell going off or a grenade. It seemed as if the earth shook with its impact and suddenly the street was a sea of confusion and fear as dust and debris began to float over from the next block. Shaking Nagi from my jacket Ran and I, without hesitation, turned and sped through the crowd towards the source of the explosion. The locals seemed to make way for us, letting the GIs through. Letting us do the dirty work.  
  
As we rounded the corner of the block we were both choked by the dust in the air. It was so thick that we could barely see anything but somehow we both knew.  
  
"It's Willy's," Ran grated as we made our way through the unnatural haze. Just hearing him say it made my heart sink. My stomach twisted with sick anticipation and anger. If he was right, and I knew he was, US soldiers would have been in the explosion. There was no way it could have been a coincidence that today was leave day and that the explosion had occurred in an establishment that would have occupied by mainly American GIs.  
  
We were halfway down the street and just coming into earshot of all the shouts of anger and screams of pain when the second explosion went off.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
This is where things get a little hazy in my memory. This is the jumping off point. If I go there, if I remember Willy Ng's that day, then there will be nothing left to keep me from remembering everything else. It wasn't so bad. The first part of Nam. There were just those moments, those defining memories that made the not so bad times as bad as the rest.  
  
I stand up abruptly, and teeter as blood rushes to my brain. No, I'm not going to go there. Not now, not ever. I need to get back to work, I need to stop this stupid train of thought. It won't do me any good. I check the bandage on my hand one more time before I push out of the tiny employee bathroom and back into the store's back room. Banzai lifts his head and whimpers inquisitively as I walk past him and out into the store proper. The swinging door makes a whooshing sound as I step out into the fluorescent lit grocery store. The white tiles reflect the light. They're always so clean.  
  
My shoes make a soft tapping sound on their polished surfaces as I walk as steadily as I can towards my counter. I check the till before flipping on the light above the register to let customers know I'm open. What customers? The store is a dead zone, there doesn't seem to be a single soul in sight. The soft, jazz music that Mary keeps on in the background fills my ears, its lilting, uneven rhythms doing nothing to soothe my aching head. Crap I hate this place.  
  
"Hey, Ken, you want some gum?"  
  
I turn towards the voice. I hadn't even realized that I took the register next to Pat's. She smiles at me in a way that I'm sure she believes is charming. It just creeps me out. I shake my head. "Naw, I'm fine, Patricia."  
  
I turn my back on her and try to concentrate on making my mind a complete blank. Staring at the Pez dispensers seems to do the trick. If I just keep on staring...  
  
"Hey, Ken?" the voice is softer, but no less irritating. I whirl around realizing that it is closer than it was before. Patricia is leaning on the end of my counter, where the groceries are supposed to be bagged. She seems to be doing her best to squash all of her cleavage up and into my line of sight. I close my eyes and sigh.  
  
"What now?" I snap half heartedly.  
  
"You don't like me very much, huh?" she says, trying to cram as much despondency into her voice as she can.  
  
I roll my eyes and turn away a little. Before I can say anything she decided to go on.  
  
"I'm not pretty enough, am I?"  
  
Oh God. Women. "Pat," I snap, my patience running out, "I'm sure that you are very pretty. Look, you're very sweet and I like you just fine as a person. But you're not my type, not in that way. I'm sorry, I'm just not interested."  
  
She stands up straight and rolls her eyes. "I don't get men at all. I swear you all just piss us off on purpose. The ones you don't want are all over you and the ones you do couldn't care less. I mean, 'not your type?' Oh c'mon, that is such a lame excuse. So what is your type then, Ken?" she snaps huffily.  
  
"I like redheads," I say before I even know what I'm doing. As soon as I've said it I bite my own tongue. Why did I say that? I'll start thinking about him again.  
  
She stands there and looks at me and then gives a huffy little laugh. "Redheads?! Oh, that is so ghosh," she fumes and then stomps back to her counter. I hear her slam the till shut. I really don't think throwing temper tantrums at work is acceptable. I keep this thought to myself.  
  
But she goes on. "Speaking of ghosh, there was a drifter in town today, I passed him on my way to work. I think he was a vet. I don't understand why so many Vietnam veterans are bums! They creep me out, especially the drifters. It's like, Jesus, just get a fucking job! They just wander around, they don't bathe, with their packs and their old army coats and their sewn on American flags. I hope he gets picked up and tossed in jail or escorted out of town. I hate them! They should all just be rounded up and... I don't know forced to get jobs or something. Put on work farms."  
  
I've never had the impulse to rip someone's voice box out before. It's kind of a rush. I turn my head to glare at her over my shoulder. "Shut up, you stupid bitch," I growled. "You have no idea what you are talking about."  
  
Patricia looks startled and then covers her mouth with her hands. "Oh, I didn't mean you, Ken. No way, I mean you've made something of your life after the war. You have a job and a house and stuff. I just mean the bums who don't move on. Don't people realize they can't live in the past forever. You're not like them."  
  
My eyes narrow. "I'm just lucky. Try being addicted to morphine that was fed to you by your own nation, try being hated and protested by the very people you went though hell to protect, and try suffering through a montage of memories and disorders you'd rather be able to leave behind every day and then tell me how much you feel like being a productive member of society," I growl.  
  
She narrows her eyes and flips her deathly straight hair, turning back to her cash register. "I was just saying. You don't have to jump down my throat."  
  
I snort and turn away. I notice a customer making his way towards me. He has only one thing in his hand. I don't pay much attention to it until he plops it down on the counter with a rather squishy splatting sound.  
  
The package of hamburger makes it's way down the conveyor belt, and as it draws nearer my eyes become fixated. Little rivulets of blood seep through the sides of the packaging, creating small pools. The chunk of destroyed flesh just sits there, stewing in its own juices. It is horrifying, just the sight of it. It threatens to pull me back, to suck me back into the void.  
  
"Are you going to ring me up or just stare at my hamburger?" the old man asks, pulling me out of my consuming funk.  
  
Shaking my head I look up and smile at him as best I can. "Sorry, sir. Would you like a bag?"  
  
"Plastic is fine," he grunts.  
  
I open the bag and reach for the package of hamburger. I'm going to have to clean that mess up... As my fingers close around the plastic wrapped meat I can feel the cold rivulets of juice run slowly onto my hand and down my wrist. My fingers squish against the forgiving flesh and the sensation sends a wave of horrid nausea through my body. My head swims, I wish to God that I had another pill with me. I can feel my chest begin to constrict and I drop the package, the squelching sound it makes and the small splatter of liquid it causes send me over the edge.  
  
-Momma... Ken, I.. I wanna go home...-  
  
Clutching my stomach and covering my mouth I fight back the overwhelming urge I have to vomit I fall back, sinking down behind the counter. The customer is forgotten, but even so I can hear voices calling to me, reprimanding me, questioning. I can't respond. I'm going under again. No... I don't need this!  
  
* * * * * *  
  
My world turned into a blur of screaming, sweating, running people. The entire front of the bar had been blown out, tables and chairs lay broken in the street, the force of the explosions throwing them from the bar. Shattered glass littered the ground, and one man ran frantically before me, screaming as a large sliver of wood stuck out from his arm. The air was thick with dust and dirt and choked my lungs as I ran forward. Everywhere there were people lying, bleeding, screaming, crying. It was worse than my first out. Everything was hazy, I couldn't focus. Nonetheless I found that I had thrown myself into the remains of the building and my world became a blur of bloody faces and bodies passing through my hand as I became entangled in the impromptu rescue efforts.  
  
I was aware of the fact that Ran was working beside me, yelling, barking at other soldiers, helping to carry the bloodied out into the light. Sweat slid from my brow, blinding me. At one point I remember scrubbing at my face to try and clear my vision, and saw that my hands were covered in blood. Now my face was too. I could smell it on me, feel it drying to my skin in sticky streaks. I didn't care. I just went on, looking for more people, trying to calm them, stepping over the pieces of bodies that no longer were worth my time. I remember seeing legs, arms, pieces of hands, gore, blood, everything strew around. At the time it didn't faze me. I wouldn't think of it until later, and when it all finally sunk in I woke at night, screaming. I still do.  
  
As I helped an unknown soldier carry a Vietnamese man who's arm was missing out into the street, where medics has finally started to gather and the dull thwacking of chopper lifts could finally be heard, I caught sight of Ran trying to comfort another soldier. It was Swanny. He was sobbing hysterically, clutching his arm. There was a huge gash on his forehead, blood streaking his face. I ran to them, wanting to help my friend.  
  
Swanny was trying to say something to Ran, he pointed, hand shaking back into the debris. "We... we were in the back... he was... I don't know... The second explosion... I - we were... Oh God! There are pieces of him on me! He's in my hair! Ahhh!!" he screamed hugging himself and clawing at his head. Swanny would enter intensive therapy after trying to commit suicide less than a month later. He was eventually discharged, gone section eight.  
  
I looked at Ran. He stared at me, his eyes wide and sad, painful.  
  
"What? What's he talking about? Who was he with, where were they in the bar?" I asked quickly.  
  
"Ken..." Ran said slowly.  
  
"What? Swanny tell me!" I shouted. I wasn't going to leave anyone in there. Not if there was a chance they were still alive.  
  
"Ken, stay here with Swanny, I'll go in," Ran said quietly.  
  
"What? Why?" I demanded.  
  
"Just do what I say, I don't want-" but he never got to tell me what he didn't want.  
  
"Omi..." Swanny moaned quietly.  
  
"Omi?! Omi was in there?!" I screamed, tearing away from them and vaulting back into the debris.  
  
"Ken!" Ran called after me, but I paid him no attention. I headed for the back of the bar. If I had understood Swanny's words correctly that's where they had been. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! My head was buzzing; my heart was racing, panic threatening to overtake me. This couldn't be happening, it couldn't.  
  
I called the kid's name. "Omi!? Tsukiyono, answer me!" I cried. I thought I would scream until my voice left me. I pushed aside broken tables, and chairs, stepped over people who reached for me. I had to find him. I would not let myself entertain the thought that... No. I wouldn't even think it.  
  
Finally, as I rounded the end of the bar and called his name again I heard an answer. It was very quiet. Just my name called in the all the choking dust. It was all I needed. There, almost under the stairs I could see something. I ran to him, nearly tripping over all the wreckage. I came up short upon seeing him, sighing in relief. He stared up at me blandly from the floor and even smiled weakly. His arm was draped across his abdomen, clutching it tightly.  
  
"Omi," I breathed and fell to his side. I was so relieved to see him that I didn't even notice that his leg had been ripped to shreds again. Less than shreds. Bloody strips. "Let's get you out of here," I breathed, reaching for him. I tried to wrap my arms around his body and lift him, but he shrieked in pain and for the first time I noticed the puddle of coagulating blood and gore that encircled his small form.  
  
He choked on his pain and then managed a thin chuckle. "I don't think... you should move me. I'll fall apart if you do."  
  
"What...?" I asked slowly, my eyes filling with fear.  
  
Slowly and with obvious effort he moved his arm away from his abdomen. I was almost sick right then and there. I gasped and nearly screamed, covering my mouth with my hand. He was holding himself together. He was right, if I moved him he would most likely no longer be one piece. I choked and started to cry, cradling my head.  
  
"Ken... don't," he whispered. "Will you... hold me?"  
  
I nodded dully, barely able to see, tears streaking down my face, a heartbreaking wail escaping my lips. I took his head and put it in my lap, kneeling beside him, running my hand through his hair. I sat there and cried, my tears falling onto his pale, cold face.  
  
"Ken, I'm sorry... I wanted to tell you... that... that I-," he forced the words to come and I shook my head begging him to be silent. "I never got to hear..."  
  
Then suddenly his eyes fixed on me with such fear and understanding that I felt myself suck back my own tears. "I wanna go home..." he whispered. Then he sobbed, crying because he knew he was never going to go home again. He was afraid to die, and I didn't blame him. I was afraid to let him die. I didn't know what would happen. His tears came fast and left smeary streams through the blood on his face. "Ken. please... I just wanna go home.. Take me home... momma where are you?"  
  
The last cry was frantic and strained and it sent shivers up my spine. Omi was only a boy, just a child, some mother's son. We were all still children. We had no business here. No business at war.  
  
"Momma... please... I wanna go home," he whispered once again and then he choked and spasmed in my arms. His eyes grew wide with terror and a burbling sound came from his throat. He jerked and spasmed one last time and then vomited up what seemed to be all the blood left in his body. It bubbled out of his throat and overflowed like a black flood. Horror filled my body at the sight; it was all I could do to keep myself from screaming and leaving him there to die alone. I closed my eyes and felt the remnants of the blood wash over my hands and arms. When I opened them again he was gone, his eyes empty and staring into space.  
  
My tears returned and I screamed his name, calling to him, shaking him, begging him to come back. Of course he would not. I clutched his blood soaked body to mine, sobbing hysterically, shaking, cursing.  
  
"No! Omi, God no! Don't leave me in this hell hole all alone! You're supposed to go home in a few days, you can't do this!" I cried, rocking his body back and forth. Again and again I had to reaffirm my grip on him as the blood slickened and thickened in the air.  
  
At some point Ran came to me, calling my name, and knelt beside me. I couldn't look at him, I hated myself, I hated him, I hated everything. I could only cry and call for Omi. He reached out and touched my arm.  
  
"Ken... please don't do this," he called. "Don't lose yourself here."  
  
I ignored him. I clutched the swiftly cooling body of the only friend I had left in the world, the only person who still cared to love me, and wished I could just go with him.  
  
Ran stayed beside me, speaking to me, but I didn't hear his words. He touched me gently, trying to get me to leave Omi's side. I didn't. I waited. Eventually more men came. They were taking all the bodies away. They wanted to take Omi, but I wasn't ready to let him go. They tried to pry my arms away, grumbling and cursing, hissing about 'section eight.' Finally Ran looped his arms under mine and pulled me away as the other men took Omi's body. It did fall apart and I cried out, pulling against Ran, but he was too strong. He held my back against his body. I struggled in vain until the soldier who took Omi away disappeared with his body, and then with nothing left to fight for all my strength drained away and I sank towards the floor with a heartbroken wail.  
  
Ran let me slip to the floor and I knelt there, shaking, crying in silence, my head and shoulders collapsed inward. He came to kneel before me and lifted my blood and tear stained face. "Ken, please, don't let this destroy you," he hissed. The pain and sadness in his eyes tore me even more apart and the only thing I could do was collapse. And so I did. With a final sob I fell forward and he caught me, holding me against his warm body, not caring if I covered him with my tears or Omi's blood. I clutched at him and let my heart break again and again as he held me in his arms. At the time I did not think that his warmth could comfort me. But now I can only wonder what I would have been like if he had not been there, if he had not cared for me. His arms tightened around me and he let my grief take me away. He whispered to me, but I never knew what he said. It was the first time Ran ever held me like that. And in the times to come, the warm circle of his arms was perhaps the only thing that saved me.  
  
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Afterthoughts: Oh my God! I killed Omi! I'm such a bastard! Eh. hehehe. Sorry for any now weeping Omi fans, I know it sucks to kill a main character, but it was necessary. At least in my mind it was. I hope the scene was adequately moving, I tried. You may hate me know... but I promise you'll love me soon!  
  
Speaking of which... about this no more NC-17 stories thing. Yeah. I signed the petition, but who the hell knows what's gonna happen? I was thinking about editing my two NC-17 ('Unfortunate Events' and 'Saga Begins') stories so they could stay up, but Lilas told me not to do that. But I dunno, I think I still might. If I decide to and anybody wants an -unedited- copy (or just a copy of anything in general) let me know. I'll be happy to send them out. Am I being too egotistical by assuming anybody cares? Well let me know what you think... or even if you care at all.  
  
Marty };P 


	10. Feel Anything

Disclaimer: *points at the slew of chapters behind this one* Ditto.  
  
Comments: Ok, I was so tired and out of it when I posted this, that I forgot to write any comments at all. It was up for like five hours just *splat* up here. Oh well, most people were probably glad to be free of my ranting, ne? Then I took a nap, got my computer networked, and then as I was folding my nice, fresh, clean laundry I suddenly realized my mistake. Que lata.. Oh well. So now my comments are about my lack of comments. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. I think you will. *Grins* And if you don't... well, nyah. So enjoy. And please review!!  
  
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I don't remember what happened after they took Omi away. I stayed in Fujimiya's arms, wishing I could just dissolve into the warmth of his body. I don't know if he carried me or if I walked out of what was left of Willy Ng's on my own two feet. Either way I came back to my senses as I was lying on my bunk. Vaguely I heard Schuldich's voice, low and soft, and I heard Jei reply. Though I didn't hear him speak I knew Ran was there as well, they were talking about me. I hadn't changed. I hadn't bathed. I just lay there still soaked in drying blood and caked in dirt. I remember noticing oddly that my boots had been taken off. I imagined that Ran must have done this for me. I didn't remember. I didn't remember anything.  
  
Without warning the image of Omi vomiting up his own blood took over my entire mind and I sat up sharply, gasping. The others noticed, halting in their conversation, turning towards me. Schuldich came to me, said words, got in my space. I didn't want him there, so I pushed him away, shoving him against the bunk next to mine. There was only one thing I wanted, and he was in my way.  
  
Without saying a word to any of them, knowing they were watching me, not caring either way, I got up and walked to the end of my bunk, throwing open the foot locker. The dark amber bottle reflected the dull light of the bunk house, glittering like gold to my eyes. I knew what relief that bottle held. Maybe if I could just get some sleep.. So I took it, I took the bottle, lying back on my bunk, popping pills. I must have taken three times the suggested dose before I started to feel the world slip away. My limbs went slack, everything lifted away from my body. I just managed to screw the cap back on before the bottle slid from my useless fingers and rolled onto my blanket. I remember those disapproving, pitying eyes. Indigo. I hated them then as they watched me. All of them. They didn't understand. What did I care, anyhow? What did they for that matter?  
  
For three days I felt nothing. I spent them in a drug induced stupor, popping the benzodiazepine pills like they were candy. The more I took, the more I needed to banish the images. For two nights and three days I was not alive. At some point I was dragged to the bath house and forced to shower. I don't remember any of it. The pills did not render me immobile; they just made everything unimportant. It was all just so much nothing, that's why I didn't remember. Max and Farf and Ran dragged me along to mess. I sat, I ate, I stared blankly at the world around me.  
  
On the third day I ran out of pills. The infirmary was closed to the soldiers save by appointment due to the overwhelming demand on the staff from the bombing in Sang Cho-na. Due to the weather it wasn't safe enough to medi-vac the majority of casualties out of the base, so most of the injured were crammed into the infirmary. I didn't want to bother the nurses. They didn't need to deal with me.  
  
As the last remnants of my last pills began to wear off around dinner time I started to shake. My hands would not stay still, it was harder to breathe than it should have been. All I could think of was getting more pills. That and the images that started seeping back in through the cracks in my brain. Those dismembered limbs started showing up everywhere I looked, and the blood was reflected in the pouring rain that began just after sunset. We sat huddled in our bunk houses, hiding from the rain... hiding from the blood. But for me there was no place to hide, the more I sat there, hugging my knees, rocking back and forth, the more I saw the kid's face and smelled the smell of his death. Every few minutes one of the others would call to me, make a joke and try to get me to join in, but I would just smile distantly, answer as best I could and go back to trying to block the world out. And all the time all I wanted was to fill my bloodstream with nothing... I needed more anti anxiety pills. Youji had said I could get them in the morning if I still felt that I needed them. That had been at last mess, but I wanted them now.  
  
Hiding my face in my arms out of pain and frustration I groaned softly, almost lapsing back into tears. I felt him come to sit beside me on my bunk. I didn't look up at first. I didn't lift my head until I felt him touch my shoulder, gently squeezing as if to comfort. When I looked up to meet his eyes I was momentarily thrown by what I found there. He stared back at me with unguarded concern, fear, and... something more... longing? I didn't know, didn't want to think about it. There was no trace of his hard edged, emotionless visage. Where had the cold hearted soldier I met so long ago gone? Why did I want nothing more than to throw myself against him and be held in his arms again? Of course I couldn't, not with the others there, but had he not broken the moment I could have stayed lost in him forever. Seeing, being seen.  
  
"Hidaka... get some sleep," he said softly. As he spoke he reached out slowly, his fingers seeking to gently tease the small glass bottle from my hand. I hadn't even realized that I'd been clutching it as I rocked. My fingers tightened possessively around it for a moment but relaxed as I softly heard him say, "This isn't what you need right now." I relaxed my fingers and dropped the bottle.  
  
I closed my eyes, because I remember for some reason that the sound of his voice made me nauseous. But at that point I think anything would have made me nauseous. I swallowed my urge to gag, my mind flitting briefly over the torrent of black blood that had spilled from Omi's mouth, and nodded slowly. I knew that Kudou wasn't going to pamper me forever. The fact that he had taken me off active duty for three days already was starting to irk Crawford. If I didn't get somewhat over this now, and get back to duty, then I was going to end up section eight. Ran was right, I needed real rest, real sleep. Not the void like stupor that the pills induced.  
  
I pushed Ran's hand off my shoulder and slid beneath my blankets, still in most of my clothes. I didn't feel like getting undressed. I lay on my side, facing away from Ran, staring at the bunk across from me.  
  
"Close your eyes," he commanded quietly. I did. Listening to him was easier than thinking for myself. He sat beside me for some time, waiting for me to fall asleep. I guess he hoped it might bring me comfort, and it must have, because despite my tormented mind I soon fell into slumber, the sound of the rain washing over me. But behind the darkness of my eyelids I found hell waiting for me.  
  
I lived through Kase again, I lived through his rejection, his disdain, his weakness. I lived through my first out. The fear was so strong, so tangible. It was all like a bad trip, and thinking back now on the drugs that were slowly thinning in my blood stream it probably was. And of course I lived through Willy Ng's. Only this time I was there. I was there as Omi and Swanny scrambled through the choking dust from the first explosion and were caught in the second. I heard Omi's screams and Swanny's frantic terror filled cries as he fled, leaving the kid behind. I knew then that it was all my fault. They had been waiting for me, waiting for Ran and me to catch up to them at the bar. My fault for not seeing the obvious in the first place. I saw Nagi's deceptively childlike eyes mocking me. This time, when I went to Omi, he told me how much he despised me for letting him die. He blamed me; he said it should have been me who died. I didn't have anything left to live for anyway, hissed. He was right. I should have been the one. This time the overflow of his blood only grew and grew until it was a raging river. It swept me away and I began to drown in the flood of death. I choked on Omi's blood and woke screaming.  
  
Sitting bolt upright I panted heavily in the near darkness. I couldn't take it! I needed to banish the images from my mind and I could only think of one way to do that. I didn't care anymore. I was going to the infirmary, and I was getting my pills. I didn't want to feel the pain, the grief, the anger. Feeling nothing was better than this.  
  
My cries had not disturbed many of the other in the 326th bunk house. Nightmares were common, and so was screaming. But as I threw back my covers and got to my feet, glad that I had not removed my fatigues I realized that I had woken at least one comrade.  
  
"Ken..? What are you doing?" his voice was quiet, but demanding.  
  
I didn't bother to turn around or look up at him, I could already see him in my mind's eye propping himself up in the top bunk, staring at me. Instead I hopped over to my boots and slid them on, supporting myself against the end post. I worked quickly. I didn't relish going out in the rain, but I didn't feel I had a choice.  
  
"Where are you going?" he asked a little more loudly, a little more fear toying with the edges of his voice.  
  
"Out," I answered harshly and then walked as quickly as I could down the isle between the two rows of bunks and out into the rain. Once I hit the outside I started to run. I ran to escape the rain and the dreams and the guilt. I ran all the way to the infirmary, bursting through the front doors and coming to a skidding halt before the nurse's station. I must have looked a fright, sopping wet, pale, and shivering, because the look Manx gave me told me she was about ready to call the psych ward. Ms. Birman got up and leaned out of the front of the box.  
  
"Hidaka? What are you doing here?! The infirmary is off limits to soldiers right now. Unless you have an emergency I want to see you march your scrawny Californian ass back out my door," she snapped.  
  
I looked at her, panting, and ran my hand across my forehead, wiping back my soaking hair. Perhaps she could see the emergency in my eyes, because after a moment she sighed and shook her head. "I suppose you want your prescription now, right?"  
  
"Birman, listen..." I began.  
  
She shook her head. "You don't need to explain, Hidaka. I know what you've been through, so even though I shouldn't and it's against code and you weren't supposed to get it until tomorrow... I'll give you the bottle Lt. Kudou asked us to have ready for you," she said.  
  
"Thank you, Birman," I breathed. "I'm sorry... I just... I need to sleep."  
  
She smiled blandly as Manx got up and rummaged around in the station. After a moment she placed a bottle in Birman's hand, and Birman then tossed it to me. It shimmered in the air and I caught it easily despite my shaking hands.  
  
As I turned to go I head Birman call after me. "Hidaka! Be careful with that stuff."  
  
I smiled weakly, nodding my head and then pushing back into the weeping night. The rain was warm and fell in sheets, but I no longer cared. I didn't feel like running anymore, I wanted to savor the feel of the bottle in my hand. Thus I walked slowly back to the bunkhouse, soaking as the skies wept all the tears I kept locked in my soul.  
  
It was so dark that I would never have noticed him if it wasn't for the glow of his cigarette. I hadn't expected him to be waiting for me, yet there he was hovering beneath the eve of the roof. He had pulled on his drab pants and his boots. He stood, arms folded across his white undershirt, glaring at me, cigarette dangling between his fingers. I tried to walk past him, but he was blocking the door with his back. I didn't know why, but I didn't want to deal with him. Maybe it was that look of disgust I caught in his eye as he took a drag on his cigarette, light momentarily flaring from its tip.  
  
"Move," I growled.  
  
He held out his hand. "Give me the pills."  
  
I scoffed, taking a step back. "No," I said incredulously. What the hell did he want with my pills? Whatever I thought he wanted from me it wasn't this.  
  
"Hidaka..." he growled, turning his head. "Give them to me. I know you went to the infirmary. You don't need that shit."  
  
I glared back at him. How dare he tell me what to do? Who did he think he was? "Don't fucking tell me what I do and don't need," I hissed. "I'd rather feel nothing at all than what I feel right now."  
  
He shifted and I saw him move. For some reason I thought he was going to hit me and I flinched away. But in the end all he did was reach up to touch my face, brushing my sopping hair from my eyes. Warmth blossomed in my cold skin where he touched me, and the heat spread though my body, yet I found myself shivering under the scrutiny of his deep, dark eyes.  
  
"Ken, I know, I've been there. But you can't do this. You have to let yourself grieve. This shit can turn the pain off, but that's not what you need." His voice soothed me, and I wanted to lean into his touch, feel his warmth around me, but I couldn't bring myself to move. I just stood there, clutching the bottle, staring at him desperately. "Now give me the bottle," he added forcefully.  
  
That was all it took to break my trance. I slapped his hand away and pulled back. "Fuck off," I hissed.  
  
"It's not an option," he answered, darting forward. It was dark and so I didn't catch the movement in time to avoid him. Not that I was in any condition to play cat and mouse with Ran Fujimiya anyway. He grabbed my wrist, jerking me forward so hard that I nearly lost my balance on the muddy ground. I grit my teeth and held on for dear life. Let him do what he wanted, I wasn't going to give in. He was crazy. He could go to hell for all I cared. We came to an impasse. My struggling got me no closer to getting away and his prying got him no closer to getting me to drop my precious cargo.  
  
But Ran had a trick up his sleeve that I didn't expect him to play. Leave it to Ran Fujimiya to play dirty. Just as I told him to go to hell for the third time he jerked my arm straight, taking the cigarette that he'd been clenching in his teeth, and burying it in the back of my hand. If you've never been burned by a cigarette, congratulations, you've avoided something very painful. I cried out in pain and surprise, probably more the latter than the former in all actuality. But Ran's dirty play had its desired effect. My hand involuntarily sprang open, dropping the bottle. As soon as it did he released me and I fell back, nursing my wound, and before I could recover he had snatched up the prescription bottle of pills. I glared at him, hating him with every fiber in my body.  
  
He looked back at me, panting slightly, and then dropped the cigarette, snubbing it out under his boot. "I'm sorry, Hidaka... I didn't want to do that, but the burn I gave you will go away in a few days. Crap like this," he held up the bottle and gave it a little shake, the pills jingling softly against the glass, the sound only increasing my longing, "fucks you up for life."  
  
"Give them back," I growled, standing straight, intent on ignoring the meddling pain from my hand. I took a step towards him. "They're mine, you don't have any right, Ran."  
  
He looked at me, his eyes hardening, his hand tightening further around my bottle. "You don't get it, Ken. The only way you'll get these pills from me is over my dead body."  
  
I laughed hollowly. "I might not have to wait too long. There seems to be a lot of that happening lately. What would one more death mean to me now?"  
  
My words must have hit a nerve, because he twitched and took a deep breath. He raised his hand, and for a moment I thought he was going to throw the bottle at me. Instead he grumbled in frustration and then dropped it back by his side. "You are such an ass, Hidaka. Open your eyes for two seconds and look at how you're letting this destroy you," he snapped.  
  
"Stop lecturing me!" I cried. "I'm not your little brother, I'm not your friend, I'm not your bitch so get off my back and give me back my fucking pills. I don't mean anything to you, so what the fuck do you care if I have them or not?!"  
  
"You're my fucking pilot," he spat back. "And I told you once, I'm not losing another pilot. Especially not to his own idiocy!"  
  
"Fuck you!" I screamed, rushing him. Seeing as we weren't standing all that far apart in the first place I didn't have far to go, even so, Ran easily avoided my anger driven and clumsy attack. He sidestepped me, reaching out and grapping my arm once again. The slack ran out and I was almost jerked off my feet, my shoulder joint protesting the abuse. Without giving me a chance to recover he turned and dragged me off after him.  
  
"That's it," he growled, towing me along by my wrist.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing? Where are we going?" I demanded, trying to break free. His grip was too strong. So there we were trudging through the pouring rain, both soaked to the bone, nearly blinded by the darkness and the water that ran into our eyes. Whenever I tried to pull away from him my feet would slip on the soaked earth, churning up mud. Eventually I gave up trying to get away and just let him lead me through the downpour. I stayed silent and let my anger build. Anger was good. It was something I could control, it crowded out the grief.  
  
Soon my feet met nothing but sloppy, giving grass. It was hard to keep any purchase. As much as we stumbled along, Ran would not loosen his grip on my wrist. After a few minutes walking I realized where we were as a dark shape loomed up in front of us. It was the link fence. We were at the far side of the training field, backed against the jungle. Fujimiya dragged me forward and let go of my wrist, making me stumble a few feet. I stopped and looked back at him; he was working at something in his hand.  
  
I was so angry I didn't know what to do, what to say, so I just stood there, shivering from the rain and from indignation. It wasn't until he threw the bottle cap at me and raised his hand above his head that I realized what his intent was. Choking on my cry of outrage and fear I watched helplessly as he threw the bottle at the fence. A shimmering dance of white pills filled the air. I could hear them smack against the wet earth and saw them scatter through the gaps in the link fence. The bottle itself disappeared into the darkness, swallowed by the jungle.  
  
"Are you crazy?!" I screamed, watching in horror as all the tiny benzodiazepine capsules began to dissolve in the rain.  
  
"If you want them back so badly, go get them," he growled and then turned away, sloshing up the slight slope back towards the rest of the base.  
  
I took a few halting steps towards where my pills had disappeared. I was so utterly stunned by his action that I just stood there, watching the rain make short work of my only escape from that hell. I couldn't figure out what Fujimiya was thinking. What were his motives? What did he care what I did, or how I escaped from the pain caused by Omi's death? Was it true that he was only concerned because I was his pilot and he didn't want any screw ups of mine to mar his name further, or was there more? I remembered the way his arms had felt as he held me after they took Omi away. I wanted there to be more.  
  
For the first time, standing there in the rain, staring at the ground as it was slowly churned to mud, I realized that I -wanted- there to be more from Ran Fujimiya. It wasn't just an absent thought, just some idea to toy with; it was what I wanted. I wanted him to care. Yet at the same time I felt the aching weight of having lost someone that I cared for, who cared for me. Fujimiya had told me that it was easier not to let others in, and I had told him his view was foolish and cowardly. Yet here I stood, wishing that I had never met Omi Tsukiyono, praying my feelings for Ran would fade so that he, too, could never hurt me.  
  
I felt all my anger drain away, leaving my body, flowing out of me even as the rain flowed over me. It left me feeling weak and tired, and chasing on its heels. Filling the void my anger had left behind was a debilitating sadness. The rushing sound in my ears was so loud, and yet through it I could hear his sloppy footsteps getting farther away, struggling up the slope.  
  
Before I knew what I was doing I turned around, and balling my hands into fists so tightly that I felt my fingernails bite into my skin I shouted after him, "Why are you doing this to me?!" My voice cracked in my desperation, tears of frustration and pain threatening to fall, to mix with the rain on my skin.  
  
He paused, surprised by my outburst. In the darkness I could just barely make him out, his white t-shirt reflecting what little light there was so that he seemed almost to glow. He turned around to face me.  
  
"Ken..."  
  
"Why? I don't need this from you!" I cried, moving towards him, slipping as I went. "I don't need any of this!"  
  
He stared at me through the rain, and without saying anything began to move back down the slight rise towards me.  
  
I turned away, helplessness overwhelming me. I had lost control of everything in my life. All I could think about was how unfair it all was. "Omi didn't deserve this!" I called into the sky. "He didn't deserve to die. He was going home in less than a week," I turned back to Ran, surprised at how much closer he was. He stood watching me passively as I ranted. "He went through all that shit, VC traps, fucking fox holes for God's sake! And I waited for him! I waited for him and I saved his life, but for what?! He's dead now, and it's my fault. He was waiting for me in the damned bar, he was waiting there knowing we would be coming along eventually, right around that time! And Nagi, I saved his life, too. And he was a fucking Viet Cong all along! He knew, he knew everything! If I hadn't saved him, if I hadn't brought him to the base, maybe things would have been different. What if he found out the leave schedule while he was here and told them and all of those soldiers were blown to bits because of -me-?!"  
  
Through my tirade I paced and screamed into the night, hugging myself one moment, flailing my arms in frustration the next. Tears coursed down my face, and it was all I could do to keep from collapsing. Finally my foot slipped out from under me and I fell to my knees, wrapping my arms around myself, crying softly.  
  
"Ken?" I heard his voice through the rain, so soft and gentle, but I didn't care. I didn't want to hear him talk to me like that. He could break me. Crouching there in the mud and grass, closing my eyes against my life, I remembered our exchange of words on the night we walked back from Sang Cho- na.  
  
* * * * * * "Look, Hidaka, I'm not busting your balls because I think I'm so much smarter than you. In this place nothing is certain. You reach out and your hand will be ripped off. If you care too much the Gods will punish you and you will lose. It doesn't pay to get attached to anything here, because tomorrow... it could all be gone. I'm just telling you what I know from experience. Don't open yourself up... you'll just end up going section eight."  
  
"I guess that's a risk I'm willing to take. 'It's better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all.'"  
  
"You say that like you know what you're talking about."  
  
"I do."  
  
"Well so do I. And I say that's bull shit. Look out for number one, Hidaka. Don't set yourself up for a fall you won't be able to handle."  
  
"You are so... cold, Fujimiya. How can you stand to be in there with yourself? Blocking the world and everyone in it out just to keep yourself safe is such a cowardly thing to do. That's the easy way out. The hard thing is learning to love and lose and make that a part of life. Shit happens, but at the end of your life do you want to leave this world knowing that no one will be waiting for you in the next?"  
  
* * * * * *  
  
I looked up slowly, and continued to speak, but softly this time, my voice all but gone. "You told me not to be so close to people. You told me that the Gods would punish me, and you were right. I didn't know what I was talking about. I thought I'd already lost everything I could, but I can't take this. Go ahead and tell me you were right, say 'I told you so.'"  
  
He crouched in front of me then, tilting forward onto his knees. "Ken," he said softly, I was beginning to wonder if that was the only thing he could say. "Don't... don't do this." He reached out as it to touch me, reaching in the darkness to touch my face.  
  
My anger returned. I lashed out and slapped his hands away. "And you!" I shouted, "What is your deal?! You fucking hypocrite! Why are you doing this to me? Why do you make me feel the way I do? You tell me to shut everyone out, you say that I will be punished for loving others and then you do this to me! How can you do this?!"  
  
I was too entangled in my tirade to notice the look on his face, to see his expression of shock. He reached for me again, his eyes darkening. "Ken, don't go there," he growled.  
  
I flailed at his hands again. "Go where? Too late, I'm gone!"  
  
"Shut up!"  
  
"No, I won't shut up! You can't make me!" Yeah, looking back on it now maybe that wasn't the most mature thing I could have said, but at the time I wasn't worried about it.  
  
"Stop acting like a child!" he shouted, grabbing for my wrists.  
  
"God, I hate you," I nearly sobbed. "Why are you doing this to me? I don't want to feel like this anymore, I just want it to go away. What do you wan-"  
  
But he never let me finish my tantrum. He did find a way to make me shut up. Breaking past my feeble defenses he suddenly reached for me, taking my face in his hands, and silenced me with his lips. It was as if he sought to crush me, kissing me so hard I could feel my lips bruising. I struggled against him at first, angry at his second dirty play in one night, but after a moment I didn't want to fight anymore. I was so tired of fighting, and there was bliss in his touch. I closed my eyes tightly, caught in the softness, the sweetness of his taste. My heart beat so fast that I was sure it would leap from my chest, and inside of my stomach a storm of wings erupted, twisting and teasing. I moaned softly, beginning to lose myself in the sensation. Yet my tears continued to fall, mixing with the rain, washing down my face and onto our lips, tainting it appropriately with bitter salt. I wondered how my sorrow tasted to him.  
  
As his lips continued to work feverishly at mine, kissing me as if he spited himself for doing so but was unable to stop, he released my face and reached around my back, crushing me against his body, pinning my arms between us. Now there was no choice for me. I could do nothing but submit. Wanted to do nothing else, because I wanted to feel... feel anything but what I was feeling. Feel anything but the guilt and the breaking of my heart.  
  
I worked my arms free and laced my hand behind his neck, grabbing fistfuls of his sopping, dark hair, filling my fingers with its unearthly feel. I pulled myself against him, pressing out bodies together, warmth spreading between us as I felt his tongue caress my swollen lips for the first time. I drew it into my mouth without thinking, wanting only to throw myself as far past the point of no return as possible. I wanted to surrender to him, let him take me over, so that I didn't have to think anymore. He was my pill now. He was all I had left.  
  
When his lips broke from mine for the first time I gasped as he immediately ducked his head to bite my neck, stopping to kiss the spot beneath my jaw. I could feel his lips pressed against my racing pulse. I tugged sharply on his hair, hissing through my teeth.  
  
"Ran..." I whimpered. Overwhelmed by the entirety of the night I began to sob again. He raised his head in alarm, as if brought to his senses by my cry. His eyes met mine, and in them I found so much fear and uncertainty that I could hardly reconcile the person before me now with the man who had so fiercely claimed me a moment before.  
  
He looked into my soul, plaintively, begging me not to make him regret this. He brushed my soaking bangs from my eyes again, and tried to brush my tears away with his thumbs but they became lost in the rain water. "Ken... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-."  
  
I cut him off. "Why? Why did you?" I asked softly, breathing heavily, pressing forward, touching my forehead to his.  
  
He looked into my eyes, and I noticed for the first time that tears were forming there. He was so vulnerable, I shivered against him. "... Because, even if I lose you like all the others, I want to know that you'll be waiting for me in the next world."  
  
I kissed him then, sucking gently on his bottom lip, pressing into his softness. I felt his hands run beneath my shirt, up onto my back, his cold hands sending shivers through my spine. I sighed against him, and felt him take my breath into himself. "I won't have to. I'm not going to die in this place."  
  
"Will you live for me?" he asked harshly, a strain of urgency in his voice.  
  
"Yes," I whispered. And then he took me in his arms again and held me against his body. We were both shivering and shaking, our sopping bodies clinging to each other in the darkness. As we huddled there, partaking of each other's warmth, my sorrow began to flood back, filling me with longing and despair. Somehow it all felt so wrong. There I sat huddled against the person who I longed to love, and longed even more to be loved by when the last person who had loved me freely was no longer able to love anything. He was gone, and in the wake of his death I couldn't even let myself mourn him properly. I was ashamed, but I needed Ran so badly then that all I could do was rest my head against his shoulder as I began to cry again.  
  
He quieted me as I wept, stroking my head, kissing my chilled skin. "I know how it hurts. I won't let you fall. I won't let this destroy you."  
  
I gave a strangled cry. "I... I never got to tell him," I whispered. "I promised I would tell him before he left."  
  
"Tell him what?"  
  
"Everything. About my family and Kase... I promised him I'd tell him. And I never got to. What am I doing? I can't stand feeling this way!" I cried softly. As I pressed myself harder against his body and I felt his hands tighten in response, something stirred within me and the heat of my body grew. The smell of his rain-washed skin was intoxicating. I raised my head, pushing upwards, kissing the nape of his neck, trailing one hand down the side on his face. "Take me away from here," I whispered into his ear. "Make me feel... anything, anything but this."  
  
He quivered in my arms, sucking his breath sharply through his teeth and pushed me back, seeking my eyes through the darkness and the rain. I saw the surprise in his eyes, the trepidation, and the uncertainty. He touched my face tenderly. "What are you asking of me?" he asked, confusion darkening his pale features. His eyes fairly glowed in the darkness.  
  
I put my hand over his and brought it to my lips, kissing his wrist. "Whatever you can give," I answered, grasping his shoulders, leaning back, pulling him back with me until I lay pressed against the flooding earth staring up into the rain, and he braced himself above me. He stared down at me, dumbstruck, and I could see the ebb and flow of emotions play across his face. Somewhere along the way he had lost his passive mask, and I was glad of it. I savored knowing I could cause such turmoil within him.  
  
"We can't... I won't do... Not here, not like thi-." He managed.  
  
I reached up and touched his face, staring at him, savoring the beauty of his features as the rain dripped from the ends of his hair. "Whatever you can give," I repeated softly.  
  
He shook his head, starting to pull away, suddenly gruff. "I can't take advantage of you like this," he growled.  
  
I grasped his shoulder, pulling him back. "You aren't! Please, Ran, I don't care what you do, just be with me. Kiss me, touch me, it doesn't matter; just let me get lost in you. Take me away from this hell!" I know my voice betrayed my desperation, but I didn't care. I was far beyond the point of having any pride left. "Don't leave me."  
  
He didn't say another word, only bent and took my mouth with his again. He took me out of Nam with his body. His kisses were soft and achingly long, slow and premeditated. I'd never been kissed like that, not by Kase, not by anyone. His touches sent shivers through my body, his nails scraping softly against my wet skin as my heart danced inside of my chest, pounding dully against my ribs until everything ached, sweet torture. When his touches turned to caresses it felt as if I might die by his hands. Everywhere he touched me fire flared and spread until I thought I would burn despite the rain. I tried my best to reciprocate his divine attentions, but I shook so badly that it was all I could do to cling to him feverishly. At his hands I found paradise among the wretched for the first time.  
  
Looking back on it now I realize that a muddy, rain drenched training field in the middle of the night on an army base in the middle of another country is not the most opportune place to have your first amorous encounter with anyone. Nor was my state of mind really conducive to making the kinds of decisions I did that night, but even knowing what I know now I wouldn't change a thing.  
  
At some point the rain stopped long enough for the stars to come out. It was right about this time that we came back to our senses, ceased our attentions to each other and lay trembling on the mud slicked earth. I must have looked a fright, tear stained, soaked to the bone, and caked in mud. Ran never said anything. Admittedly he couldn't have looked much better. Eventually he stood and pulled me to my feet, kissing me again, more possessively this time as if to seal what we had shared.  
  
It was then, as we broke from the last kiss of the first encounter, as he took my hand in his and laced our finger together before smiling and whispering my name in my ear, that I realized I would love him forever. A blessing and a curse.  
  
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Afterthoughts: Oh, so sappy and cheesey. I hope it wasn't too random. I have had this whole thing planned out since the very beginning, so... I hope it worked. Mouuu. Ok, well I got now.  
  
*points at review button* DO IT!!! 


	11. Conversations

Diclaimer: *points at slew of previous disclaimers*  
  
Comments: HolymarymotherofGod this took so incredibly long to write! I am sooooo, sorry! I know it's been like two weeks or something, maybe more, I can't remember! Anyway, I was just really out of it after I finished that last chapter. I'd had the whole thing all worked out in my head, just about up to that point so I was so happy when I got there. And then I realized that even though I had a general idea what happened next and up to the end, I was mostly clueless as far as specifics went. So I had to go back into brainstorming mode and then my writer's block, Hans the Sweaty Bavarian, decided to drop by for a visit. And then there's this stuff called work... yeah, so I'm really sorry, but the break was needed. Hopefully I'll be more speedy with the next update, but... I make no promises. School is getting to be a bitch and midterms are coming up. So hang in there. I'll get this done eventually. Anyway enjoy the chapter for what it's worth!! Review please! They help keep me motivated! Oh, and since it took me so long to get this done I didn't have it beta'ed so just deal with my typos. I read it over, but typos happen. Later.  
  
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I wasn't allowed to return to active teaching duty for another week. Lieutenant Kudou decided that I needed a break after my breakdown, so I was grounded. I didn't really mind, there wasn't all that much to do, most of the other soldiers were helping out with the reconstruction efforts in Sang Cho-na. Since only the lower bar room had been destroyed and none of the foundation really damaged it was assumed that Willy Ng's would reopen. There was a pole going around base as to how long it would take. Most were giving it a month or less. It was hard for me to think about. Special Forces started filtering into base after the bombing. It was their job to sniff out the VCs, but if you asked me it was too little too late. I was questioned several times about my interaction with Nagi that day, but neither he nor any of the other VC agents were ever found.  
  
Sometimes at night I would dream that he was in front of me. I could feel my hands slip around his scrawny neck as I squeezed the life out of him. I wanted someone to pay for what had happened to Omi. I didn't care if he'd tried to save my life. I would dream those dreams of revenge and always wake up crying.  
  
It was nights like those that Ran saved me. It was as if he knew everything, was attuned to every heartache, every pain in my body. Inevitably, when I woke in the night, shaking in anger and sorrow, he would stir and slip silently from his bunk to curl against me. I could feel him gently pull back my blanket and slide softly inside with, the warmth of his body comforting me, filling me with longing. During those nights I was so needy... I would latch onto him, sobbing silently into the fabric of his white t-shirt while he held me. We could not speak, we could not move, we could only lie beside each other Ran's body silently promising to be gone by morning. I would steal tiny kisses, never able to control myself, wanting to play that dangerous game. But he was much more careful than I could ever have been, and I was secretly glad of it. He would stop my advances, holding me so tightly that I could not move, or pressing his fingers to my lips.  
  
Some of those early nights he would come to me even as I slept and curl against my back, staying outside of the covers. He would trace patterns on my chest with his idle fingers, and bury his face in my hair. We never made any noise, we could not afford to. If we'd ever been caught... well... you could be court marshaled for that kind of stuff. But the excitement of the forbidden nature of my feelings for Ran only made our stolen moments that much sweeter.  
  
During the days we avoided each other. It was easier that way, then nothing could slip, no look could be noticed, no unconscious touch seen and reported. Besides that it was awkward. There were still so many unanswered questions, so many uncertainties, and so much confusion. We needed to talk, but there was nowhere and no time to do so. Even if I was grounded to base for the week, Ran wasn't. He still had to go to Sang Cho- na to teach those three days, and when he wasn't teaching he was helping with the clean up or accompanying transports to the larger medical facilities to the north. In a way it was a relief not having to be near him, like I said it gave me time to think.  
  
The last day I was stuck on base Ran had flown out to fly gunner with a transport to one of the medical bases to the north. I'd spent most of the day after training was over lying on my back, staring at the bottom of Ran's bunk. It was, as usual that time of year, raining. The rain washed up against the grimy window panes and fell relentlessly on the slat board roof. Various leaks wept rain water into the barracks, and in some places it even pooled against the wall. Everything was damp. God I hated it. I had to get up.  
  
Pulling on my camo fatigues I began to make my bunk, bending low to bury my nose in the thin pillow where Ran's head had lain the night before. I sighed as I straightened once again, glad that the bunk house was empty. I was surprised when I heard someone call my name.  
  
"Yo, Hidaka!" It was Max. I hadn't talked to him much lately. I hadn't talked to anyone much lately. "I thought I might find you here."  
  
I turned and appraised him warily. Ever since things had started with Ran I felt like I had to constantly be on guard. Especially around Schuldich. He knew about Ran, and obviously held it over him. It wouldn't take much for Schu to put pieces together, or even just make them up himself on the off chance he was right. Still, I liked Schuldich, and I couldn't believe that he would be openly malicious for no reason. If Schuldich had a problem he was the kind of guy who would come and say it, backstabbing wasn't his style. He may have known about Ran and used his knowledge to wheedle him and push him around a little bit, but when it came down to it I don't think Max would have really gotten anybody in trouble. He liked to play mind games, it was all just a bit of fun to him. Even so, I knew that mind games were the last thing I needed right then.  
  
"Hey, Schu. What do you want?" I sighed, leaning against the bed and crossing my arms across my chest.  
  
"You on a silver plate," he quipped, tossing his head cockily and grinning that wicked, lopsided grin. Since neither he nor Farf were allowed off base at the time he was one of the few other members of the 326th who were hanging around.  
  
I rolled my eyes and answered hollowly, "Tempting, but I'll pass."  
  
"Oh c'mon, Nippy, being kept out of the village I'm getting kinda held down. Feelin' kinda desperate," he went on, coming to lean against the bunk post beside me. His narrow, sharply green eyes smiled at me dangerously. I was too tired to play these little games with Schu.  
  
"Ha ha, ok very funny. Now what do you really want, Max?" I asked, shifting my body weight towards him.  
  
He shrugged, the amusement fading from his face. "Nothing, just bored. The longer we're stuck on base the more psychotic Jei is getting, so I figured I'd take a break from him. I think not being able to shoot things is really getting to him." He chuckled perversely and sat down on the bunk across from me. "Cabin fever is setting in."  
  
I snorted softly and stared at my feet, for some reason I didn't like making eye contact with Schuldich. It was as if he was always trying to get into my head, peel away the layers and see what lay beneath. He was always like that, like it was second nature.  
  
The silence hung between us like a shroud. It made the air in the barracks heavy and oppressive. I wished that he'd just say what he wanted and go, or at least stop looking at me like that.  
  
"So, Hidaka..."  
  
"So, Schuldich."  
  
"How are you anyway? Enjoying the war yet?" He chuckled softly.  
  
"Not fucking likely," I hissed, running my hand through my hair.  
  
"It's too bad, really. I liked that kid. He played a mean game of poker. Heh, guess it'll be a relief to be able to keep some of my cigarettes now though. I heard the scene was pretty brutal. I guess for once I'm glad I was grounded or else I'd probably be in several pieces by now too. I guess what they say is true: 'life's a bitch and then you die,' huh Hidaka?" he said, looking up at me from the bed, clasping his hands together. Schuldich was the last person I wanted to get into this with.  
  
"I guess so," I answered flatly, narrowing my eyes. Schuldich was treading on dangerous territory, and I knew he was doing it on purpose. For whatever reason he wanted to get me riled. It must have been the boredom.  
  
Once again we fell silent. Unable to think of anything to say, I just stood there, arms folded, doing my best not to look at Schu.  
  
"I bet you wish now that you'd let me kill that Gook kid." The comment came out of nowhere. His voice was flat and icy, digging through my skin, ripping away bone and muscle until it froze my very core. Was he right? Should I have minded my own business and let Schuldich and Farfarello kill Nagi? It would have made things so much easier, so much simpler if Nagi had never even happened. If it was true that Nagi had gleaned information for the VC forces in the area during his short stay at the base, then it was my fault for bringing him there. I was the one who made that choice... but what choice did I have?! I didn't know he was a VC, and even if I had I wouldn't have let him die like that. Even though now I longed for vengeance, dreamed of his death at my own hands... I could never have left him behind then to bleed to death.  
  
I felt cold fingers dance up my spine and I balked, turning away from Schuldich's watchful eyes. Guilt swept over me and for the umpteenth time in a week I felt like curling into a tiny ball and dying. I wished silently that Ran was there to steady me, but he wasn't. It was just me, Schu, and the truth. It was my fault, all those deaths, all that damage, and all the wasted funds. I wished that night had never happened. That stupid night... Schuldich's fucking night!  
  
The thought struck me so fast that I think I actually jerked.  
  
That's right... Nagi wasn't my fault, he was Schuldich's. It was Schu who had organized our little sortie and it was he who had shot the Vietnamese boy. If it was anyone's fault that he had been brought onto base it was Max's! I couldn't be blamed for having compassion, could I? Just because I was the one who physically brought him onto base, didn't mean that I was the one who caused that necessity! Little sparks of anger danced through my body and I squeezed my eyes shut, balling my fists together. "I refuse to feel guilty for bringing that boy here," I hissed between my clenched teeth.  
  
I could hear Schuldich shift on the bunk. "What was that?"  
  
I snapped my head around and opened my eyes, glaring at him. "I said I refuse to feel guilty for what happened with Nagi! You're the one who shot him, god damn it! If you had never gotten us to steal the Jeep that night then none of this would have ever happened! I won't feel guilty. I didn't do anything wrong. I won't let you play your little games with me, Schuldich, because it's not my fault!" I was nearly screaming by the time I was done. It felt so good to say those words, yet even as I said them a part of me wouldn't believe them. A part of me still blamed myself, a part of me always will.  
  
Schu sat there looking up at me passively for a few moments and then furrowed his brows and stood. He took two steps towards me until he was right in my face. I could feel his breath on my skin and smell the slightly tangy odor of his sweat mixed with military issue soap. He smiled at me slowly and then drew back, surprising me. I had been ready for his rebuttal, but none came. Instead he just smiled broadly and ruffled my hair.  
  
"Glad you see it that way. So you can stop beating yourself up over it. I'm sick of watching you wallow in self loathing, it's disgusting. What happened happened. This is a war, Hidaka, shit happens. You aren't to blame for what happened in Willy Ng's. Probably nobody is. That fuckin' Gook kid probably never got the chance to look around this place, how could he? He was locked up in the infirmary. And even if he did, it's not your fault anyway. It's probably mine. I'm just too callous to care," he said and then turned away. I watched his back make its way down the isle between the bunks, his long red hair swaying slightly with his cocky gait.  
  
I never understood Max Wolff. One minute I thought he was the biggest bastard the world could ever have conceived of. And the next... he goes and says something like that. It made me realize that no matter what Schuldich said he wasn't too callous to care.  
  
As I heard the bunk house door open and shut I realized that the rain had stopped. I blinked slowly and then shook my head.  
  
Confused and slightly aggravated I went back to making my bunk. I was just pulling the top edge straight when I heard the chopper blades overhead. The transport was back... Ran was back. I decided to meet them at the field, there was nothing better to do.  
  
By the time I made it to the landing field the choppers were just powering down their blades, the last few dull rotations making their way through the air. I was surprised to see so many people crowding around one of the Iroquois. Two nurses were standing a few paces back from the open side door giving each other nervous glances. I saw Kudou and Lt. Commander Crawford among the small group of people who were standing at the door. I couldn't make out anything that was being said, and I didn't want to move closer, afraid that I would only hinder whatever procedure was being executed. It seemed as if they were waiting, coaxing something or someone out of the ship.  
  
Then suddenly the small crowd parted and I saw Ran hop down from the chopper and haul someone after him. It took me a moment to figure out who it was, but then I caught the familiar flash of dark hair beneath a private's hat. It was Swanny. It must have been, but he didn't seem right. A shiver of fear went down my spine as I eyed the nurses warily. Had he been injured? On a simple transport flight to a larger medical base? Didn't seem likely. Yet I could tell that he was barely able to support himself, his whole body shook and Ran had to keep one hand under his arm to keep him from falling to his knees. What the hell was going on? As soon as Ran and Swanny cleared the chopper the nurses moved in, taking Swanny under the arms and slowly leading him away towards the infirmary. Crawford and Kudou descended upon Ran, gesturing and talking rapidly.  
  
Ran shook his head, pointing back towards the helicopter. I was surprised at how shaken he looked. It wasn't like him to show what he felt. A few moments later the pilot, a guy I recognized as being Mitchell, detangled himself from the UH-1 and came to talk with the others. There was obviously more discussion taking place. Mitchell shook his head and spoke slowly. I hung back by the hangar, not wanting to interrupt their conference, not wanting to seem over eager.  
  
Ran noticed me. His indigo eyes flashed up, doing a small double take when he saw me standing there. He looked so... relieved? I don't know if that's the word, but there was something in his eyes when he saw me and it made my pulse quicken. He drew his eyes back to the conversation, but as it went on he kept looking up at me with quick little darts of his eyes as if to make sure I wasn't going anywhere. Or maybe because he just liked looking at me.  
  
A few moments later the little conference ended abruptly as Crawford threw his arms in the air and stalked off. Mitchell shrugged and waved the other two away, walking back to finish securing the helicopter. Kudou moved towards Ran as if to say something more, but Ran blew him off, giving him a cursory salute and then headed straight towards me.  
  
As he came closer I could see how weary he looked. His shoulders sagged forward and his eyes were dull and hollow. What the hell had happened?! He didn't stop to greet me or explain, only bumped against my shoulder and murmured. "Come with me."  
  
Stealing one last glance over my shoulder at the Lieutenant, I was slightly chagrinned to see that he was still watching us. I turned away quickly and jogged after Fujimiya. He made a bee line for the barracks, but to my surprise he did not push through the bunk house door, instead he kept walking around the corner of the building and down the narrow ally between our bunk house and the next. It was where he had found me reading my letters. The place he first told me to find something to live for.  
  
He said nothing, and I could not think of anything intelligent to say either so silence was our companion. He gave me a long, appraising look, his deep, sad eyes falling halfway closed, and then sighed heavily, sitting down on the wood pile. He dropped his head into his hands and sat there unmoving. "Oh, fuck ..." he whispered. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what he wanted me to do. I'd never really seen him like this before. I wanted to reach out to him, but I didn't know if that's what he wanted.  
  
I took a few steps closer and came to stand in front of his bent form. Hastily stealing a glance down either side of the alley I lifted a trembling hand and ran it gently over the top of his head. I had intended only to linger for a moment. We couldn't afford to take stupid chances. But when he looked up at my touch his eyes made me stay close and I trailed my hand gently down his pale cheek, surprised at how cool his skin was. "What is it?" I asked quietly.  
  
He reached up and I thought he was going to push my hand away. I expected him to keep me in line, but to my surprise he only placed his hand over mine, drawing it away slowly. He looked into my eyes, searching for something and I didn't have the presence of mind to wonder what. I remember how I blushed as he laced his fingers with mine, connecting our bodies as if it was nothing, as if we were just any two people. Even though the base was practically deserted due to all the effort being put into Sang Cho-na, I felt a knot of anxiety tighten in the pit of my stomach. A part of me wanted to pull my hand away, to hide this from the world again. I was so afraid of being caught. But the look in his eyes stopped me from pulling away, and so I just stood there, my arm hanging limply at my side as he held my hand in his.  
  
"Swanny lost it mid way back on the transport. I've never seen anything like it. One minute he was sitting co and the next he was freaking out. He kept saying there was blood all over the console and that the commies knew where we were. He kept saying that it was 'all over' him. He almost throttled Mitchell... I... I had to hold him down. I was afraid he was going to throw himself out of the helicopter. I was so scared, Ken." The last utterance was but a whisper and I didn't understand what he meant.  
  
"Ran... I don't understand. Scared of what? What could frighten -you-, Steel Nerves Fujimiya?" I quipped, trying to smile at him.  
  
"I was scared for you. Scared that... that the same thing could happen. I could lose you to yourself, Ken. Please tell me, tell me what I can do to keep you safe. Whatever it takes, I won't let you end up like that. Tell me what to do," he pleaded.  
  
His words pulled at my heart. Never in my life had I felt so loved by anyone. I squeezed his fingers gently and smiled. "You're doing it."  
  
He sat speechless, staring up into my eyes, seeking the truth. I let him find what he wanted and reached out to touch his face. His skin felt unearthly soft beneath my fingertips. I whispered his name and then began to pull away. But before I could he reached behind my back with his free hand and drew me towards him. He made a small choking sound and buried his face in my stomach, nuzzling against me, kissing me through the fabric of my shirt.  
  
"Oh, Ken," he murmured. "This is insane. It's been so long. Two years is so fucking long... I want to get out of this place. I want out, Ken. Two years of this torture, isn't that enough? I want to get out before I lose you."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere," I replied a bit harshly. I was so nervous that someone was going to come around the corner wanting to smoke a cigarette and find us there. Yet a part of me was responding to his insistent attentions. A slow heat spread through my body. I felt him release my fingers and run his hand up my thigh until it strayed at the hem of my shirt. His other hand did the same, slowly pushing up the white fabric until a small patch of my skin was exposed. This he kissed softly, pulling me towards him with his hands, gripping my hips, starting a rocking motion. I blushed furiously, and raised my hands, intent on pushing him away, but instead found them acting of their own accord, running through his fine hair. Even my mouth betrayed me uttering a soft moan as I felt his tongue explore the crevice of my navel.  
  
"Ran, we can't do this here, someone will see," I pleaded, tugging on his hair.  
  
"What the fuck do I care?" he grate. He breathed softly against my skin, trailing kisses across my abdomen. "You smell so good, Hidaka. Oh, Jesus, I want you so badly," he breathed.  
  
A wave of heated shame flushed through my body and I pulled back slightly. "Ran, please. Stop this."  
  
He sighed heavily, tickling my flesh with his warm breath. "I know," he grumbled, pressing forward and nipping me sharply, "I know we can't, but..." he groaned softly, kneading my body with his strong hands, gently kissing the place where he'd bitten me. "Being so close is killing me."  
  
"Ran!" I said sharply, squirming under his amorous attentions. I was beginning to like the way he was making me feel too much for my own good. If he couldn't be the strong one then there was almost no hope for me. "No, don't start this here!" I snapped, trying to twist away.  
  
He paused a hair's breadth, his lips lingering on my skin and then pulled back sharply, pushing me away. I stumbled backwards with a small cry and tugged down the hem of my shirt, covering my skin which was cooling quickly as the air hit the remnants of his kisses. I watched him wipe the back of his hand across his mouth before he buried his face in his hands again. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking," he grumbled.  
  
I hadn't meant to push him away. More than anything I wanted to hold him close to me, to warm him with the heat of my body, and comfort him in my arms. But this wasn't the time or the place. Being caught like that... we would have both been dishonorably discharged so fast... considering our cases maybe it wouldn't seem like such a big deal. We'd get to go home right? Not likely. We'd have been court marshaled for insubordination first, and even if we'd escape punishment and simply been sent home things like this don't come off your record. Try getting a normal job, a loan, a house, anything when you have 'Dishonorable Military Discharge: Homosexual' stamped across your life.  
  
I hugged myself, crossing my arms across my chest. "Don't be sorry. I want you to. I want... I want to be with you, but we can't. Not here. We aren't safe here, you should know that. And besides, things are kinda... confusing still. It's too much; we need to talk, Ran. I need to know what you want from me."  
  
At this he looked up and smiled vaguely. "I don't want anything from you. I just want you. I'm sorry if I'm pushing, but everyday I am so afraid that I'll lose this the next. I want to make sure I make as much of this as I can when I can, just in case..."  
  
"I understand. I just need to sort through all of this. Two weeks ago... I never even imagined that you would feel..." I trailed off, blushing and hiding my eyes.  
  
He stood up and came to stand before me. Once again he threw caution to the winds and pulled me into his arms, holding me against his chest. I could feel his even breathing and the beating of his heart. Little shivers of pleasure went through my skin as he stroked my back. "I'm sorry that it took what it did for me to tell you," he murmured in my ear.  
  
Knowing that I could not bring myself to pull away from him a second time I lay my head against his shoulder and closed my eyes. The sound of his body lulled me into calmness and I sighed softly against his neck. It was then that I realized that Ran had never -told- me anything. And neither had I for that matter. We had never uttered any words of affection or admission. I lifted my head and looked into his eyes, drawn in by their infinite depths.  
  
"Ran, I haven't told you that I l-" but he didn't allow me to finish.  
  
"Don't!" he cried hastily, shaking his head. I didn't understand the fear in his eyes. "Don't tell me, Ken. Show me, it's enough. It will have to be. If we don't say it... maybe they won't take you away from me," he whispered. "Don't ask me to tell you the way I feel..."  
  
"Ran..." His name left my lips as little more than a whisper. He scared me sometimes. His wounds must have run so deep and I wondered how much of them he would let me see. Would he let me touch his soul? I brushed the hair from his eyes and then kissed his lips softly. It was so thrilling to touch him like that.  
  
It took us both a moment to realize that we were in danger of being caught again. We broke apart, pushing each other away at the same time, both stepping back sheepishly, and averting our eyes. I can't tell you how glad I was when no more than five seconds later I heard Schuldich.  
  
"Fujimiya, you red-head, pole smoking ass, where the hell are you?" He came around the corner, glancing briefly down the narrow corridor between the two buildings and jumped when he saw us. "There you are. What the fuck are you doing back here? I've been looking all over base since I heard. Is it fucking true? Swanny went section eight on the ride?"  
  
Ran turned away from me, putting his hands in his pockets. I kept staring at the ground, I knew my face was still flushed. Of course Ran was already the perfect model of control again. I envied him that.  
  
"Yeah, it's true," Ran responded dully, no emotion betrayed in his voice.  
  
Schuldich snorted. "Gee thanks, how terribly informative of you. What the hell happened, Ranny?!"  
  
"How the fuck should I know, Max?" Ran snapped. "One second he was fine and the next he was a freakin' nut ball. We got him back to base, so it's not my problem anymore."  
  
I didn't like the tone in Ran's voice. It was so cold and uncaring, yet I knew that that wasn't how he truly felt. I knew he was shaken and scared, I knew it was still his problem. I hated the fact that he could lie about it so easily. It scared me shitless to know he was that good of an actor. All that time spent covering up the pain had taken its toll and done its job well.  
  
"Not your problem? What a fucked up thing to say, Fujimiya," Schu said coldly, shaking his head slowly. After a moment he shrugged and chuckled. "Maybe it isn't anyway. Well I guess maybe it's to be expected. You do such a nice job of closing yourself off, and it's probably better that way, you know. We wouldn't want your curse spreading to the peripherals, Fuji. Although, seeing as you were the one who was there with Swanny after the bombing (at least that's what I heard) and on the ride with him now... maybe it's too late," Schu said in mock thought.  
  
Ran didn't move, he just stood there, glaring at Schu, solid as stone.  
  
Shculdich chuckled, "You know I'm just fucking with you, Randy-boy. No need to give me that look. So you think he's permanently gone or do you think he'll snap to?"  
  
Ran shrugged slowly. "I think he'll be ok. After they get him all doped up on benzo or something. That seems to be the way everyone deals with their problems these days." He didn't turn his head to look at me, but I knew the comment was directed as much at me as at Schuldich, and I didn't understand. What had happened? A moment ago Ran had been my refuge. He'd been warm and gentle, begged me not to lose myself to my demons, and now... what? Why was he so cold? Maybe it was just a show for Schu so that it would seem as if nothing had changed between us, but even so that comment was not necessary and the stinging of it would be lost on Schu. He knew nothing of that night and my dependency. That comment was meant for me alone. And it was meant to cut me as deeply as it did.  
  
I lifted my head and glared at the back of Fujimiya's head. I fought the urge to punch him. I hadn't lost all my dignity. I should at least be able to stand up for myself.  
  
Schuldich didn't notice the comment or its effect. After a moment of silence he just shook his head again and yawned. "I guess that's true. Well, thanks, Fujimiya, you've been delightfully non-helpful. Maybe Mitchell will have more to say on the matter. Catch you two later. Don't let him corner you, Hidaka, you might get a nasty surprise," he said flippantly, giggling to himself as he turned and waved us both off. "Ciao."  
  
When the sound of his footsteps had receded into nothing I sighed softly and then turned my attention back to Ran. I noticed that his hands were balled into fists as he stood, unmoving, staring down the corridor.  
  
"This is so fucked," he hissed. I don't know if he'd meant me to hear or not, but seeing as I did I decided to answer.  
  
I took a step towards him and put my hand on his shoulder. "I know, Ran," I said softly. I could forgive him for his cutting comment, I knew he was hurting.  
  
His head snapped around. The look he gave me was almost physical. His eyes were so angry that I felt myself wince beneath their cold glare. I hadn't seen his eyes like that since the first time we met, when he'd clocked Farf in the bunk house. I wanted to pull away from them, to hide from their painful intensity, but there was nowhere to go. It seemed that I had let Ran corner me, and Schu was right.  
  
"No you don't. You don't know anything. You don't get it, Hidaka," the words oozed out between his lips like bile. I could taste them, feel them choking me.  
  
"Ran..." His name slid from my mouth, worried and hurt. I tried to reach up to touch his face and chase that cold mask away, but he slapped it away, and then shrugged my other hand off his shoulder.  
  
"Just forget about it," he said flatly and then turned, walking away to leave me alone.  
  
I stood there, uncomprehending and confused for several moments. The longer I stood there the greater my anger grew, and I was glad that it was anger that came and not the all too familiar pangs of grief. I didn't want anymore sorrow. I had enough. I'd rather have hated Ran right then than let his sudden change hurt me. Of course it didn't matter what I wanted. Even if the anger came, the hurt came right along with it. Maybe it was buried, maybe it wasn't the first thing I focused on, but it was there. I just couldn't understand what had happened. Was it Schuldich's words? Had they angered him so much that he let that anger reflect onto me? Or had he suddenly realized how foolish he and I were, decided that he wasn't going to risk getting burned again?  
  
Groaning in frustration I stalked down the narrow alley and out into the daylight. I found myself subconsciously touching my stomach and realized that my skin still tingled from Ran's amorous attentions. I growled at myself for being an idiot and continued my stalking. I didn't know where I was going, I just knew that I didn't want to be anywhere near the barracks. Maybe mess was open early... maybe Manx and Birman were up for a chat. I could get another bottle of pills... I caught myself and laughed dryly without humor. I guess Ran was right after all.  
  
I snorted at myself and kept on walking. Before I knew it I found myself on the training field throwing stones at nothing in particular. It felt good. Besides training itself it was the most physical activity I'd had in over a week, which was sad, but true. I was so caught up in my little tantrum that I didn't notice the approach of Lieutenant Commander Crawford until he was almost on top of me.  
  
"It helps, doesn't it?" I heard his languid, drawling voice say from somewhere behind me.  
  
With a start I'd let my last stone fly, sending it off at a crazy angle. I turned around and tried to gather myself into a salute. "S-sir!"  
  
He stood there, holding a cigarette to his lips, his uniform messily thrown together, his hair sticking out at odd angles. He looked for all the world like he'd been having a tantrum too. He raised one eyebrow at me as he took a drag on his cigarette and then slowly exhaled in my direction. "Put you hand down, private."  
  
I let my hand fall limply to my side and stared at him uncertainly. Crawford was probably the last person I figured I'd see out there. Not that I'd been planning on seeing anyone at all.  
  
He grinned at me half heartedly and made a broad gesture in the air with his cigarette hand, smoke swirling in intricate patterns before him. "Still beating yourself up about what happened in Sang Cho-na? About your little friend and that Vietnamese boy?"  
  
I wasn't sure exactly what Crawford wanted me to say. It was almost as hard to tell what he was thinking as it was to tell what Ran was thinking. I looked away. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," he sighed.  
  
I took a deep breath and then looked up to meet his eyes. Again that weird John Lennon feeling. "I know that I've caused nothing but trouble since I got here. I'm sorry I've been such a pain in your ass, but I've decided that I can't feel responsible for what happened. I had no choice regarding that boy. He'd been negligently injured by a member of the US army, and my conscience wouldn't let me leave him to die. I know that the repercussions of my actions are severe, but... knowing what I knew at the time, there's no other course of action I could have taken. I do not feel that I am to blame, sir."  
  
He rolled his eyes. "Oh fuck, Hidaka, no one's blaming you. Shit if more of the ass-holes here were... were... well like you maybe we'd be winning this war. Maybe we'd get some support from home since we wouldn't be killing Gook babies and women. What are you anyway, Hidaka? Honest? Good willed? What?"  
  
"I don't know, sir," I said softly.  
  
"I'm not saying that what happened hasn't caused a whole big mess, cause it has. We've got special forces in here, we've got military investigators, green berets, not to mention the mess in the village. Fuck, the paper work is never ending. Yeah, I'll never live this one down. If anyone's to blame, Hidaka, it's me. I should have dumped that little Gook's ass back onto the road before he cold count to three when you brought him in here. You're heart was in the right place, but I was just stupid. Even if he had nothing to do with what happened, which I think we know isn't the case, just his being here is enough coincidental evidence to get every official within chopper distance in here with pitch forks screaming 'sabotage,' 'treason,' 'bloody murder!' And you know who all those pitch forks are aimed at, Hidaka?"  
  
I shook my head, even though I knew damn well who.  
  
"Me. Because I'm supposed to be in charge. This is my show. Four generations of Military officials in my family and they are launching an official investigation into my 'involvement' with the Sang Cho-na bombing. My 'involvement.' After all it was -my- Jeep that was crashed and I let the boy stay for medical treatment in -my- infirmary. I mean, I suppose it -could- all be some elaborate plan. Fucking bureaucrats. Like I'm some kind of fucking traitor," he paused here and snorted. I wondered why he was telling me all this. It was making me feel more and more guilty by the second. I didn't know if that was his true purpose, but I didn't think so. He took another drag and ran a hand through his dark hair. "And now this shit with Swanny, and he's not even the only one. This place is going to hell in a hand basket. And you know what? Even if they don't end up finding anything with this investigation of theirs, I'll probably end up tried for Negligence of Duty or something like that. After all they can't catch the VCs responsible, so they'll have to blame somebody to keep the home front happy. We don't want those damn hippies getting a hold of anymore excuses to throw rallies. Heaven forbid. That's what I hate about this war, Hidaka. It's got nothing to do with fighting for our beliefs anymore. It's just one big political crock of shit."  
  
"S-sir..." I trailed off, not knowing what to say to him.  
  
He took another drag and then waved his hand dismissively. "Well, just forget about it. You've been a delightful sounding board for my ranting, thank you. It's not your problem anymore, Hidaka. You're heading back into the village tomorrow, so make sure you're ready. Dismissed, soldier."  
  
"Yes, sir," I said. I walked past him and off the field, glancing once over my shoulder to see that he was still standing there, smoking by himself. That image of him is still with me, it's the one I carry with me, because it just summed him up. I can't say that I ever really understood the Lt. commander, but that's probably how it was supposed to be.  
  
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Afterthoughts: Random stopping spot. Well, not really. It will all flow. I hope. Bleh. I need to take a nap. Hope you enjoyed. Review or else I will smite you!! SMITE YOU!!!! 


	12. That's Amore

Disclaimer: There's a whole slew of them back there. *points* They still apply.  
  
Comments: *pokes head out from under rock* Hello, everybody. Heh heh. Gee... I bet you're all wondering what I've been doing for the past 2 ½ weeks, huh? Please don't throw things at me!! But I'll tell you what I've been doing. I've been sick! Yes I have, oh so very sick, and you can ask Lilas about that, because she witnessed my sickness firsthand. So sick I fell asleep one and a half episodes into Generator Gawl, and have become know as 'that consumptive girl.' Well, I'm not -really- consumptive of course, but I did have one heck of a whopping cold. And it made me very un- inclined to even get out of bed much less drag my lazy ass to the computer and write. And then of course there was the homework... and my rediscovering the wonderful world of gaming *dodges rotten fruit* Speaking of homework... I have to write a paper now! So please enjoy this chapter, ok?! Cause it took me forever to get it written, but you know that better than I do I am sure. Ooohh... note the rating change too guys... muwahahahaha!! Not that I hear anyone complaining...  
  
Warning: The following is long and may contain high quantities of cheese, corn, smut, and Dean Martin.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
I must have passed out. I don't really remember, I'm just glad to be away from that damn piece of meat. But of course as soon as I passed out I just kept on dreaming the rest of the story, meat or no meat. I hate flashbacks.  
  
I open my eyes slowly and reach up to touch my forehead. There's a damp cloth draped there, it feels cool. Sighing, I prop myself up and glance around. I'm back in the back room, flopped on Banzai's dog bed. A sharp whine brings me to attention and I realize that I've been resting against the dog in question. I glance over my shoulder only to have my cheek met with a sudden, wet dog kiss. Mmm, dog breath. Yeah, that's not helping my headache. Still, I know he's just trying to help, so I smile weakly and remove the wet cloth from my head, so that I can set in on the floor and ruffle his ears.  
  
"It's ok, boy. No worries. You must think I'm a complete flake today, huh?" I chuckle softly, "Yeah, we haven't had one of these days for a long time, eh?"  
  
He whines appreciatively and then sets his head down on his neatly folded paws. He keeps his eyes trained on me, his eyebrows raised in dog- skepticism.  
  
I take a moment to reflect on how messed up my life is, and then, before this thought can overwhelm me, I roll over and bury my face in Banzai's warm side. I've got to keep myself grounded in the present. The little flashback fest needs to stop. All the memories of Ran aren't really what I need right now. Granted some of those memories are worth more than all the gold in the world, but it's knowing how everything ends that makes the whole process less than pleasant. Well... that and the genuinely unpleasant parts, which seem to outweigh the golden ones.  
  
I'm so intent on regulating my breathing with my dog's that I don't hear Mary's footsteps or her agitated muttering until she drops my jacket on my head.  
  
"I called you a cab, you're going home."  
  
"I'm fine, Mare," I say, my voice muffled by the fabric of my jacket.  
  
"Like hell you're fine. Passing out in my store over some hamburger and telling me you're fine. The nerve," she grumbles. I can hear the concern in her voice.  
  
There isn't much I can say to that so I don't say anything. I just lie there with my jacket on my head. I feel her sit down next to me on the floor. Light suddenly floods my eyes as she yanks my coat off. She runs a pudgy, cool hand across my forehead and temple. "What's wrong, baby? You can tell me anything."  
  
I turn halfway over so that I can look at her. I try to smile, but can't tell if I succeed of not. "Nothing, Mary. At least, not anything I can name. It's just one of those days. It started this morning with the message machine and ever since then it's just been a rather downward spiral into my subconscious. I'm really sorry about work. I should stay... you need someone to man the counter," I protest weakly.  
  
"Like hell you should stay. No way, hon. You are going home and that's the end of it. And after I leave tonight I am bringing you dinner, so you just go home and go to bed and don't worry about anything," she says softly, running a hand through my hair.  
  
If only it were that simple. Just go to bed and don't worry about anything... it's sleep I'm the most afraid of. I force a smile again. "Sure, Mare."  
  
"Is there anything you want to talk about? Sometimes it helps to get it off your chest. I don't mind all the gory details."  
  
Gory details? That's an understatement. No, Mary, it's not the gory details I can't tell you about. It's the red-haired lover who made it all bearable, and then left me alone. The man I still love with every breath I take. The man who's touch is seared into my skin and who's taste is still on my lips. He's the only thing I can't tell you about. And unfortunately he's the root of my problems right now. "No, there really isn't anything to say, Mary. I don't know what exactly's wrong, but I'll be fine. Maybe you're right and I just need some sleep."  
  
She raises and eyebrow and sweeps a stray piece of her wispy hair out of her eyes. "Whatever you say, hon." She looks out at the stacks and stacks of stock and sighs, starting to get to her feet. "I'm too old for this."  
  
"You're not that old, Mary," I chuckle. "Over the hill, maybe, but hardly aged."  
  
"Ha ha, shut you're trap, whippersnapper," she chuckles.  
  
I turn back over and close my eyes. A few moments later I feel Mary's toe against my leg. "C'mon the cab will be here soon."  
  
"I can walk home, don't worry about the cab."  
  
"Ken Hidaka, get off my shop floor, put on your jacket and go stand outside and wait for the cab I called for you before I kick your scrawny ass into next week!" she cries, increasing the pressure on my leg.  
  
"Argh, ok ok, sheesh. Slave driver," I grumble, getting to my feet. My head spins a little from the rush of blood and I sway slightly. I shake it off, and stoop to grab my coat. I know Mary is eyeing me warily and for some reason it makes me nervous. I don't really like having other people worry about me all that much. It's so much easier to just be on my own and leave it at that.  
  
A few minutes later I am leading Banzai through the front of the shop towards the doors. I ignore the worried look Patricia casts my way and don't even bother to say goodbye to her. Mary follows me out, most likely to make sure that I actually get in the cab and don't just take off for home on my own.  
  
I'm thankful that she doesn't say anything more and just lets us stand there in silence. I keep running over that afternoon behind the barracks. I swear I can feel Ran's warm breath on my skin, his lips leaving a tingling trail across my abdomen. Unconsciously I touch my stomach as I stare out into the rain. When did it start raining again?  
  
"You're tummy hurt, sweety?" Mary asks absently. "You want me to grab some Pepto before you take off?"  
  
Her voice snaps me back into reality and I pull my hand away from my stomach guiltily. I know she has no idea what I was thinking about, but I still feel guilty, as if I was caught in the act or something. I shake my head, smiling sheepishly. "No, no I'm fine. I was just thinking about the dinner you're going to make me."  
  
She laughs. I knew this would appease her. A yellow taxi-cab glides out of the rain drenched street and pulls up to the curb. Mary waves at the driver and then ushers me into the back seat, shoving Banzai in after me. The cabbie looks like he wants to protest, but Mary gives him a flash of the eye and tosses a bill into the front seat.  
  
"Keep the change, ass-hole," she grumbles, and the cabbie grins greasily and tips his hat.  
  
I tell the driver my address and we pull back onto the nearly deserted street. It's only about a five minute drive to my house, and it's only that long because of the traffic lights. I feel bad about Mary paying just to get me that far. Oh well, such is life.  
  
We stop at a stop light. Outside the window life goes on. People walk hurriedly up and down the street, collars turned up and umbrellas in hand. It seems like ages since I've thought of myself as one of those ordinary, everyday people. It would be nice to be a part of the world again. Slowly the sound of the radio seeps through my consciousness and I start to actually hear the music.  
  
-Besame. besame mucho. Each time I cling to your kiss I hear music devine. Besame. besame mucho. Hold me my darling and say that you'll always be mine...-  
  
Dean Martin. Dean fucking Martin. The lilting, classical sound of his voice drifts though my mind, illuminating the dark places with his crooning song. Why is it that my day is playing out in this exact sequence of events, each one leading me to the next place? I close my eyes and lean against the cool windowpane, shutting out the passing lights and cars and rain.  
  
-Who ever thought I'd be holding you close to me. whispering it's you I adore?-  
  
On an impulse I lean forward and tap the cabbie on the shoulder. "Could you just drive me around for a little while? That bill's got to be good for a little bit of ride."  
  
He eyes me and grumbles under his breath, but nods. I lean back and stare back out the window.  
  
-Dearest one... if you should leave me, each little dream would take wing and my life would be through. Besame... besame mucho... love me forever and make all my dreams come true...-  
  
* * * * * *  
  
I was so mad, mad at Ran and mad at myself. I can't explain it, I was so angry and yet there was a little part of me that kept wondering what -I- had done wrong. Half of me wanted to confront him and the other half wanted to let it be and just hoped I'd find him slipping into my bed again that night, apologies unsaid and unneeded. But that was hardly likely to be the case. Either way I realized, as I hurried away from the field and the awkward situation with Crawford, that the last place I wanted to be was anywhere near him. Thus I turned away from the barracks and stocked peevishly across the base, not paying any attention to where I was going. The next thing I knew I was standing outside the officer's quarters without meaning to be there. Staring at the blank, metal door I realized that I actually wanted to talk to Kudou. Maybe he could give me some more details about Swanny, or about Ran for that matter.  
  
I'd never really thought about it before, but I realized that it was fairly obvious that Fujimiya and Kudou were on friendlier terms than just officer/soldier. It hadn't occurred to me to wonder after the nature or deepness of their relationship, but I had a feeling that Youji knew a lot more about Ran than I did. I wondered absently if he knew about the fact that Ran was gay, if he knew the truth about Yuushi. However much Kudou knew, I was sure that he was one of the few people Ran considered to be a friend.  
  
Without having any idea what I was going to say, I pulled open the heavy metal door, walked into the officer's quarters, and knocked sharply on Kudou's door. There was a long pause as I waited in the hallway. I could hear loud music playing through the door, Dean Martin I thought, and it made me smile. Somehow Youji seemed like the kind of guy who might listen to good old crooner Dean Martin, swaying slightly on his feet as the Rat Pack icon slurred out a few lines about the nature of love and the moon and Italy. My mother had listened to Dean Martin a lot when I was a kid, and it brought back memories, good memories. I was just about to knock again when the door snapped open suddenly.  
  
I was over come with 'That's Amore,' taking a step back. Youji had stood there looking rather disheveled, his long hair falling out of a makeshift ponytail. He had a glass of red wine in his hand and no shoes on. He squinted at me rather blearily and I realized that Lt. Kudou was most likely drunk. He squinted for a moment more and then without saying anything shrugged and waved me inside.  
  
-When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore. When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine...-  
  
Kudou set his wine down on a desk, and before I had a chance to take in my surroundings or say anything he stepped towards me and said, "Waltz with me, Hidaka."  
  
He reached out and caught my hand before I could stop him, placing the other hand around my back and jerking me against him. "Um, sir..?"  
  
He rolled his eyes and let go of my back long enough to put my free hand on his shoulder. "That's an order, soldier. Now on three..." And thus I was waltzed rather sloppily around the private room of officer Kudou to the lilting tunes of Dean Martin.  
  
When the song finished I ended up in a rather uncomfortable dip, Kudou smiling only inches from my face.  
  
"You're a pretty good waltzer, Hidaka," he said lightly.  
  
"Permission to speak freely, sir?"  
  
"Be my guest, mambo king," he slurred.  
  
"You're drunk and this is killing my back, sir," I said trying to stand up.  
  
"So I am and so it is. Up you go!" he cried, yanking me back onto my feet. "Thanks for the dance all the same. Dancing alone just isn't the same."  
  
I felt myself blushing, more from the ridiculousness of the whole affair than anything else. I knew Youji didn't mean anything by it, especially not when he was drunk. He was just that kind of guy. "Anytime, sir," I managed.  
  
He chuckled and went back to his glass of wine. "What can I do for you, Hidaka? You want a glass of wine?"  
  
"No, that's really ok, sir," I said, looking around the room. It was surprisingly neat. There were a couple suspicious looking piles of clothing in the far corner but other than that the floor was clear and the bed was even made. Pin-up posters and photographs decorated the walls along with a few political posters, most of which I didn't understand.  
  
"Oh, c'mon, I insist. Have a glass, private, and that's also an order," he slurred, rummaging around on the desk for another glass. Apparently he didn't have another wine glass so I ended up sipping my wine out of plastic cup, but I didn't mind. With each successive sip, my angry thoughts about Ran dissipated a little bit more.  
  
For a few moments we both stood, saying nothing, listening to Dean as he went into a rendition of 'Sway.'  
  
When I looked up I noticed Kudou was staring blankly into his glass.  
  
"What's the deal with Dean Martin?" I asked at length.  
  
He smiled without looking up and nodded his head. "What is the deal indeed? My fiancée sent me the record. Dean is her favorite. She used to listen to it all the time. We'd stay up all night, just dancing alone to her records. Of course that was only after I'd climbed onto the roof of the porch and snuck into her room, things other than Dean on my mind, but it always ended up just being Dean. Heh, well not -always- but more often than not. I got a package from her a few days ago, with the record in it. She wants me to pick out songs for our wedding," his voice was soft and distant. I watched as he swirled the dark liquid in his glass a then took an absent minded sip.  
  
I wasn't exactly sure what to say, because it was hard to interpret how exactly felt about picking out Dean Martin songs for his wedding. I took a sip of my wine and headed for high ground. "Well that was nice of her."  
  
Youji snorted. "Wasn't it though? Heh, yeah Asuka is always thinking of me. She's a real team player, that she is. You wanna see a picture, Hidaka?"  
  
"Umm... sure," I answered, figuring it was best to humor him.  
  
He reached mechanically into his breast pocket and walked over to me, holding out a photograph. I took it from his hand and looked down into the smiling face of a very beautiful young woman. She had short, dark hair, dark eyes, and a beauty mark on her cheek. The kind of woman I expected Youji Kudou to be involved with, she reeked of class.  
  
"She's beautiful," I said, handing the photograph back to him.  
  
Youji chuckled and tucked the photo back in his pocket. "Yeah, my best friend apparently thought so too. Along with the record I got a letter from her confessing that she had a little lapse in fidelity. She swears it was a mistake and begs me to forgive her. She loves me, she says. She wants to be with me, marry me. I guess she just wanted to screw him that one time. And you know, why shouldn't I forgive her?" he said harshly turning his green eyes on me as if I had all the answers in the world.  
  
I shook my head.  
  
"I should be able to. We're all human, we make mistakes. I mean, fuck, I know I'm no saint. Do you have any idea how many women I've slept with here in Nam? Me neither, I lost track. So then it should be ok for her to do the same, right? It should be, but I just want to kill them both," he hissed.  
  
I stared at him blankly, and took another sip of my wine. And here I'd been hoping to talk about my problems.  
  
Kudou sauntered over to the desk again and grabbed the wine bottle, filling his glass, and then coming to fill mine. He grinned at me softly.  
  
"You know what else, Hidaka? I blame myself. I am an ass-hole. I am a terrible boyfriend, and an extremely terrible fiancé. I've got terminal cold feet. I love Asuka so much it hurts, but every time I think about marriage, I start to feel sick to my stomach. You wanna know why I came to Nam, why I enlisted and became an officer? To postpone my wedding! My main motivation in going to war was to get as far away from commitment as I could for just that much longer. I didn't even tell Asuka until two weeks before I was scheduled to leave. Man was she -pissed-! Of course I had this whole song and dance about 'oh my country' and 'gotta stop the commies' blah blah blah. But it was all just an excuse to get away from the altar. And, you know what, this is what I deserve. And even though I know that... I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive her. I love this woman, I do something stupid, she does something stupid to get back at me, and now... it's totally fucked. Just like that. Love sucks! Let me tell you right now, Hidaka," he said, stooping over conspiratorially. "If you ever fall in love, and I don't recommend it, but if you do, don't do -anything- to fuck it up. Because if you do, you will have fucked up everything in your life for the rest of eternity. Love sucks, so treat it with kid gloves. Don't go to Vietnam to get away from your fiancé. Promise me."  
  
I swallowed dryly and nodded. "I promise."  
  
"Figuratively speaking, of course."  
  
"Of course."  
  
He grinned at this and ruffled my hair. It seemed as if everyone had a habit of doing that. "Drink your wine and tell me what you want."  
  
I took another sip of my wine and cleared my throat. "I just wanted to thank you for being understanding about this past week or so... since Omi passed away."  
  
He shrugged and waved a hand at me. "Forget about it. It really bites what happened. Not cool. You've got the wrong kinda disposition for war, so I don't mind cutting you some slack. Is that all you wanted?" he raised an eyebrow, and I wasn't exactly sure what that was supposed to signify.  
  
"That and to check on Swanny's status. How is he? Is he ok, Ran told me what happened..." I trailed off halfway thinking about Swanny, halfway thinking about Ran.  
  
"Oh he did, did he? Yeah that and a bag of chips, probably," he said, and then snickered.  
  
"Er... sir?"  
  
He waved his hand at me absently and shook his head. "Nevermind, I'll talk to Fujimiya about it later. Swanny's fine. He just had a little nervous breakdown. And we all know what those are like," he said giving me a significant look.  
  
I ducked my head, my cheeks flushing. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Well if you see him before I do let him know I'm thinking about him."  
  
"Will do. Is that it?"  
  
Unable to think of any way to segue into a conversation about Ran, I let the matter drop in my mind. I realized it really wasn't all that important anyway. I shook my head and took another swig of wine.  
  
"Well good," he said, smiling. He walked over to the record player he had jimmied in the corner and turned it up.  
  
-Hey mambo! Mambo Italiano! Hey Mambo! Mambo Italiano! Don't wanna tarantella! Hey mambo, no more mozzarella! Hey mambo! Mambo Italiano try an enchilada with a fish baccala!-  
  
"Then mambo with me!"  
  
I don't know if it was the ridiculousness of the whole situation, my empathy for Youji's emotional state, or the wine, but mambo I did. In fact I mamboed and talked with Kudou until we were both good and drunk and it was nearly lock down. Thus I left his room stumbling and giggling about Dean Martin. It was a good thing I was still thinking about Ran or I might have had the presence of mind to do something really embarrassing like kiss the lieutenant. Thankfully that never happened.  
  
So it was in this inebriated state that I stumbled out of the officer's quarters and right into Ran. Literally. I lurched forward out of the doorway and fell against his chest. His hands caught my shoulders and I heard him cry out in surprise. It made me giggle and I looked up at him, clawing at his uniform, trying to get into an upright position. When I achieved this I stared happily back into his disbelieving, disapproving face and fell in love with him all over again. Without thinking of the potential consequences I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his. I kissed him as passionately as I could in my rather unstable state, knowing he could taste the wine I had been drinking. He just stood there, too taken aback to do anything or stop me.  
  
When I felt that I'd kissed him enough I pulled away and buried my head in his shoulder. "I love you, Ran. Don't fuck it up." There, I'd said it, and he couldn't to jack about it.  
  
I proceeded to fall asleep against his shoulder, drooling slightly. I guess Ran must have been on his way to see Kudou, but I don't think he ever got there seeing as the next thing I remember is waking up in the middle of the night, tucked into my bed, Ran breathing softly against my hair, curled around my back.  
  
The midnight hangover kept me from staying awake for too long, but not from smiling happily before drifting off again.  
  
By the time morning revelry woke me up again Ran was, of course, gone. The sound of the bugle echoed through my head, making my wine induced hangover that much more unbearable. I rolled onto my back and stared at the bottom of Ran's bunk. Revelry sounded again and I heard the bunk squeal in protest as Ran rolled over, the mattress above me bulging as he shifted. His arm flopped over the side and dangled charmingly down, swinging slightly.  
  
I stared at his hand for a moment, noticing how pale his skin was, and the way his fingers curled just slightly and twitched as the bugle sounded one more time. Without thinking about it, wanting only to touch him, I reached my hand up lazily to brush it against his long fingers. His hand stiffened momentarily and then relaxed again, his fingers opening slightly as I placed my hand within them, my finger tips brushing against his wrist gently before I slid my hand around his and held those long, artistic fingers inside of my worried, worn ones. I imagined him resting his head gently against his other arm, closing his eyes as his thumb began to gently stroke my hand.  
  
I sighed, and closed my eyes as well. Then it was as if we both realized what we were doing at the exact same moment and our hands flew apart. Fuck! What was that about? The rest of the bunk house was waking up too, there were any number of eyes that could have been watching us, that could have seen. This thought made me sit bolt upright, looking around nervously. As I did, my head whipping to the side, I whacked it against one of the metal support cross beams on the bottom of Fujimiya's bunk and cursed.  
  
"Fuck, my head!" I cried. Grumbling I pulled myself out of my bunk, one hand on my head, the other groping around the wall to keep myself steady.  
  
Ran looked down at me with disapproving eyes, not that I was really paying attention at that point, and then swung his legs over the side of his bunk and slid down next to me. "You should be more careful," he said bluntly, and I knew he wasn't talking about my head.  
  
I lifted my eyes and glared at him, not amused. "I'll keep that in mind," I grumbled.  
  
This was to be my first day back at teaching with Ran. We had to go through morning training and mess before we caught a ride into the village. I wasn't looking forward to the process, and for some reason the idea of being alone with Ran in the afternoon was making me nervous. I hadn't forgotten about the day before or his sudden change in attitude. Even though at that time, in the morning, it seemed like everything was forgiven and forgotten, I knew I wasn't going to be able to handle Ran if he kept playing hold-you-close-push-you-away. Besides that I could feel a reprimand for my late night drunkenness coming on as well.  
  
I watched, perhaps a little too interestedly, as Ran changed into his uniform. It was the first time since we'd become involved that I'd been able to watch him. I'd pretty much been out of it for the past week, and was either sleeping or pretending to sleep as the rest of the 326th got up and went about their morning routine. Either that or I'd just not had the presence of mind to watch him before. But for some reason that morning I remember how I could barely tear my eyes away from the smooth contours of his back as he pulled on a fresh white under shirt. The way his muscles moved beneath his pale skin was mesmerizing, beautiful even, and I wanted so badly to feel those muscles moving beneath my fingers. I watched the way he shook loose his red hair after he pulled his shirt down over his head, his eyes closed, his hands continuing to pull the white fabric down over his torso as he turned towards me.  
  
I know it seems like I must have lost my mind entirely. First the drunken episode with the kissing and whatnot, then the hand holding thing, and now I just stood there, holding my own change of shirt in my hands watching him with a blank look on my face. It must seem like I was begging for the whole entire base to notice, but that wasn't it. I really just couldn't help myself. I wanted some confirmation that he'd heard my words the night before. I wanted confirmation of everything, and I wasn't content to wait. I wasn't content to be careful.  
  
Before he opened his eyes again I turned away, not wanting him to notice that I was staring. He'd give me that look again. And who was he to tell me to be careful anyway? He was the one who wanted to get down and dirty behind the bunk house. My head hurt.  
  
The more I thought about running around in circles with Ran and how much I didn't want to be in love and in the army at the same time, the more pent up I became. By the time we were all assembled on the field and training began I was so grumpy and fed up with my life that I forgot about my hangover. I did pushups like a maniac, trying to work out my frustrations. And the day had seemed to start out so well.  
  
I grumbled over my poor excuse for scrambled eggs at mess, and bussed my dishes rather violently, letting them clatter together making a sound that matched my aggravation.  
  
The ride into town was made in silence. I kept my eyes trained on the passing jungle, not trusting myself to look at Ran. I had this feeling that if I had to look into his eyes I'd lose my self-control and either throw myself on him or deck him. I wasn't sure which one was worse. Or which one would make me feel better.  
  
I hopped out of the Jeep and made my way down the slope towards the makeshift school room without stopping to wait for Fujimiya. Somewhere in the back of my head I had the uncomfortable realization that I was being childish, but I didn't care. I was in a bad enough mood, and my hangover had come back. I think the fact that Ran didn't even seem to care that I was ignoring him only made me that much more frustrated. He was content to lag behind, silent and watchful. Maybe he figured I was just trying to be careful.  
  
The students came, the students went. Ran seemed to have built up at least some sort of rapport with them. We did writing drills and speaking drills and Ran attempted to go over grammar, but no one seemed to quite comprehend what he was trying to get across. By the time class was over I'd gotten three offers from prostitutes and was thoroughly un-amused. As expected no one hung around to ask questions so it was just Ran and I staring at the walls.  
  
"What a waste of time," I muttered, shredding a piece of paper into smaller and smaller pieces.  
  
"Somebody thinks it's worth our time," Ran answered, looking up from where he was adjusting the knobs on the radio.  
  
"Or they're just trying to distract us," I answered scattering the pieces of paper on the cement floor. It had started raining again, and I could see that water was pooling in the corners and running down the walls in small rivulets. "I hate this place."  
  
"Base says they'll be a pickup in about three hours. They've got to pick up more guys working on the rebuild project. Think you can handle sitting around till then?" he asked after a few moments.  
  
"What choice do I have?" I muttered.  
  
"None," he answered quietly, standing up and moving around the room. He made his way to the back door and stood looking out at the river. I watched his back and then grumbled to myself, getting up and going to close the side door against the rain and chill dampness that rode on the air. Then I went to sit on one of the desks, my back facing him. The quiet was killing me.  
  
I didn't hear his boots scuff across the dirt strewn cement; I guess I wasn't paying attention. I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt his hands on my shoulders and then run through my hair. His warm breath tickled my scalp as he leaned down and kissed the crown of my head.  
  
"What are you doing?" I asked peevishly.  
  
"You hit your head this morning," he stated into my hair as if that explained everything.  
  
I chuckled thinly. "Yeah, I know. No thanks to you."  
  
"What did I do?"  
  
"Nothing..," I sighed. "Nothing at all, Ran."  
  
There was a pause and Ran pulled away from me slightly. "Are you angry at me?"  
  
I sighed again and leaned back, resting my head against his chest. His hands traveled slowly down my neck and shoulders, snaking down my chest where he rested them lightly. "No. Not really." But then again...  
  
"Liar," he murmured against my hair. "We're alone now anyway."  
  
"I guess we are."  
  
This said I just sat there, my hands dangling between my legs, my head resting against Ran's chest. The steady beat of his heart sounded in my ears, and I closed my eyes, wishing that small moment of peace could last forever.  
  
"Do you remember what I said to you last night?" The words came tumbling out of my mouth before I even knew I was talking.  
  
He shifted uncomfortably behind me and stood up straight, his hands retreating slightly. There was an awkward silence and then he pulled away some more. "You were drunk."  
  
I reached up, my heart pounding and caught his wrist before he could pull completely away from me. I turned on the desk and looked up at him angrily. "What does that have to do with anything?! Do you remember or not?!"  
  
He looked at me for a moment, his dark eyes wary and hooded, and then he looked away from me, tugging on his arm. "Ken..."  
  
"Ran! This is important. Tell me, please. I need to know that you understand that I'm serious about this!" I growled, yanking back.  
  
"Hidaka, I told you already, I don't want to hear it, and I don't want to say it. And it's because of how serious I am that I won't let words kill you," he said intensely, turning to look at me again. I could see the anger in his eyes.  
  
I sneered and let go of his wrist, slapping his hand away. "You superstitious bastard. I'm tired of playing these stupid games with you. One second you're hot as all hell and the next you're fucking ice. Just pick one and stick with it! I meant what I said, I know how I feel. I get nothing but confusion from you!" I cried, standing up and slamming the chair into the desk.  
  
He glared at me and then rolled his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair before speaking. "How can I be any clearer for you? I told you my intentions, what do you want from me?!" he growled.  
  
"I want to be close to you! I don't know anything about you; I don't know what you feel, or what you want. I want to be closer!" I cried angrily.  
  
He stared at me for a moment and then took three quick steps towards me until he was less that half a foot away from me. I could hear his agitated breathing as he stood there, looking down at me. For a moment I tried to meet his eyes, to meet his intensity with my own. In the end those depthless, indigo orbs proved too much for me and I looked away. I'd said too much, demanded too much.  
  
I felt his hand grip my hip sharply, his fingers working my flesh momentarily, grabbing at the fabric of my pants. Then he pulled me against him roughly, my pelvis meeting his as his other hand flattened against my back and helped to jerk me towards him. I looked up, startled, and found his eyes again. They were just as intense, but there was no anger in them. In fact the intensity that I found there then was completely different and it took my breath away.  
  
"Is this close enough?" he breathed against my skin huskily.  
  
I felt the blood rising to my face, a blush spreading across my cheeks. "This isn't what I meant," I hissed.  
  
"This is all I can give you right now," he answered. "Take it or leave it."  
  
I looked at him peevishly, and then slipped my arms around his narrow waist. "I guess I'll take what I can get. I'm sorry..." I leaned forward to rest my head against his shoulder.  
  
He chuckled, swaying against me slightly. "For what?"  
  
It was my turn to chuckle now. "I have no idea."  
  
It was then that I felt his lips against my neck. I lifted my head in surprise, and he took advantage of the movement to get to the soft spot below my jaw. I sucked my breath in sharply, tilting my head back, my hands trailing to his sides where my fingers tangled in the fabric of his jacket. "Ah... Ran..." I breathed. His hair tickled my face, the cool, soft strands brushing against my cheek as he gently kissed at my neck.  
  
He sucked at the base, sending little sparks of fire spreading through my skin. But it wasn't until he bit my earlobe, nipping it sharply and then pulling it into his mouth, teasing me with his tongue, that I moaned softly and realized that we were very close to being out of control. Once again the possibility of being discovered dawned on me and a sick apprehension settled in my stomach.  
  
Pushing on his hips I began to squirm. "Ah... h-hey, Ran... wait," I breathed, trying to pull away.  
  
But he wasn't listening to me. His arms only tightened around me, his fingers digging into my hip even harder, as he rolled his pelvis against mine suggestively. I admit it, it made my head swim. It made me feel like I was about to fall into nothingness, and most of me wanted it to go on, but a small, very strong part of me burned with a shame, a trepidation that refused to be ignored. Gritting my teeth against the sensations Ran was sending through my body I managed to grind out, "Wait.," again before I realized that we were moving backwards.  
  
Moments later the top of my thighs impacted the lip of the long, makeshift teacher's desk. "No more waiting," he hissed, his breath hot and shallow against my skin.  
  
He leaned into me until I had to release his shirt, hastily moving my arms behind me to prop myself up against the surface of the desk. His eyes met mine, and I knew he could see my hesitancy. I furrowed my brows, uncertain of what to do. I was the one who said I wanted to be closer, but now I was afraid again. I wondered briefly who was really playing hold-you-close- push-you-away... I was probably just as much at fault as Ran if I thought about it, but I didn't want to so I just closed my eyes and tilted my face towards his.  
  
He took my lips with his without any hesitation. A wave of relief and heated passion swept though my body. Relief at not having to think anymore, and passion... well, that should be obvious. Greedily I opened my mouth and moaned, running my tongue against his lips until he obliged me and let me inside. As our tongues slipped against each other, both wanting to take and be taken, explore and be explored his hand reached up to roughly grab my hair, holding my head in place. He pulled me up against him, his arms snaking around my back, pressing me upwards. Now I practically had to support both or our weights, and I realized he had me at a sever disadvantage.  
  
He used this, and I could feel him pressing against me, gently nudging my legs apart, weaseling his way between my knees. I moaned and gasped as I realized what he was trying to accomplish, shamefully finding myself acquiescing to his suggestions, leaning farther back, spreading my legs slowly until I was propped up against my elbows, nearly flat on my back, and he was leaning so far over that he could no longer hold me as he braced himself against the table with one arm, the other gently resting on my abdomen. Soon I found myself scooting farther back, pulling myself up as he settled between my legs, pressing himself against my crotch.  
  
I blushed furiously as he rocked against me and I found myself pressing back to meet his hips, the erotic rhythm causing my breath to come short and my back to arch slightly as his kisses lingered longer and longer, and his hands began to work dirty magic on my body. Wherever he touched me my skin felt like it was seared. Slowly he pushed my jacket off my shoulders and down my arms, and then traced lazy swirls on my chest, teasing me with his soft touches and gentle machinations.  
  
"Nn... Ran... you're going to... get us caught," I murmured, still unable to shake my trepidation.  
  
"Shhh, just shut up and enjoy it. There's no one here but us," he whispered, starting to kiss and lick at my neck again. I groaned and tipped my head back, arching up into him. "Besides it doesn't seem like you really care all that much," he chuckled as his hand slid deviously beneath my shirt.  
  
"Ah!" I cried sharply as he scratched his nails across my skin. I thought Ran might like to play a little rough. "Be nice," I hissed.  
  
He looked up sharply, searching my eyes for a moment. "I didn't hurt you did I?" he asked quickly. His concern was endearing, and I took advantage of the moment to get off my elbows. I pushed up off the desk leaving my jacket behind, sitting up, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.  
  
Standing up straight, Ran folded his arms around my body once again holding me close, his hands gently massaging my back. I heard the dull jingle of our dog tags as they clinked against each other. My fingers skimmed up the back of his neck, catching in his hair as I pressed my body against his, doing nothing more than enjoying the intimacy of the moment. We stayed like that for a little while, holding each other, able to be together like that for what really seemed like the first time. That rain drenched night on the field had been so rushed and unexpected; there had been no forethought there, no calculated tenderness. This was different, and unimaginably blissful.  
  
I kissed Ran's neck softly, laying small pecks across his flawless skin. He sighed and shivered slightly, tiny goose bumps standing out where my lips graced his flesh. "Ken...," he murmured softly, sighing into my ear again. Smiling against his skin I purred softly, letting my hand trail down through his fine hair until it rested lazily on the nape of his neck.  
  
"What?" I whispered to him, kissing his neck again, nuzzling my nose against him gently.  
  
He didn't respond with words, but suddenly pulled me forward, stepping back so that I had to stand again still leaning against the lip of the desk. Then he pressed against me once more, rocking his hips against mine. Aching heat spread from my loins as I felt our growing needs for each other collide and echo.  
  
Moaning shamelessly I tossed my head back, rolling against him, knowing only too well how to dance that dance. His hands pulled my shirt up, running over my smooth torso, caressing with deep, lingering strokes as he ducked his head, bending down so that he could kiss my chest. In doing so he began to slowly sink towards the floor, his knees buckling as he trailed soft attentions down my stomach, promising to finish what he'd started the day before behind the barracks. His tongue darted into my navel and I cried out softly, gripping the edge of the desk with white knuckles.  
  
I was so caught up in the sensations that he spread through my skin that I paid little attention to his actual actions. It was all just one haze of longing and acceptance. It wasn't until I felt his fingers toying gently with the band of my uniform pants that I looked down and realized that he was on his knees before me, his intentions suddenly and startlingly clear.  
  
I jerked, my face flushing, my hands flying out to catch his shoulders and push him back. "Ran, what are you doing?" I cried.  
  
He was as startled by my reaction as I had been by my realization that he wanted to do -that- in a school room. He looked up at me sharply, obviously rather annoyed at being so unceremoniously shaken out of the zone.  
  
"What do you think I'm doing?" he asked sarcastically.  
  
"You... -we- can't do that here," I snapped.  
  
"Why not?" he asked, no hint of a tease in his voice. He honestly wanted to know.  
  
I worked it over in my mind and then, unable to give him an answer I knew he'd be satisfied with I just went on staring at him.  
  
He went on staring at me. We stared for a few moments and then I raised my eyes to the ceiling. "What if someone comes....?"  
  
He chuckled stupidly as if he'd just though of a great joke and then gave another tug on my waist band. "Well that's kinda the point, Ken," he said, peering up at me.  
  
Rolling my eyes and looked back down to meet his, and found that they were full of an unusual lightness that I had never seen before. They were soft and open, dragging me into their smiling depths.  
  
"That was crude," I said, smiling despite myself. "And that's -not- what I meant."  
  
"I know. And who cares if someone walks in on us or not? They would no matter what we were doing, so if we're going to get caught we might as well make it worth our while," he said calmly, kissing my skin again.  
  
"Mm," I murmured, running a hand through his hair. "What happened to Mr. Be-more-careful?"  
  
"He's wants you really badly," Ran answered huskily, slipping two fingers into the waist of my pants. "So just relax, and let him have you."  
  
I sighed, tightening my hand in his hair for one long moment before giving in and leaning back against the desk again, gripping the lip in anticipation of what was to come. It wasn't as if I could really argue with him, not with my body demanding that I acquiesce. The painful tightness of my pants was proof enough that I wanted him to have me.  
  
No more words were spoken as Ran's long fingers slowly, torturously almost, worked at my belt. My breath caught in my chest as I felt him undo the bronze button and pull down my fly, his fingertips meaningfully brushing over the aching bulge there. I whimpered, biting my lip as he slid his fingers into the band on my shorts and with a silken grace pulled them, along with my pants, down to my knees, releasing me from my fabric prison.  
  
Panting in anticipation, I closed my eyes, unconsciously spreading my legs a little farther. I hear Ran make a soft clicking sound in the back of his throat as he knelt before me, observing me shamelessly for the first time. My heart beat so fast that it made my whole rib cage ache. I shuddered as I felt his hand trail tentatively up the inside of my thigh and pause painfully close to the center of my unbearable desire for him.  
  
Tipping my head forward, trembling as his fingers stroked every part of me but what I needed him to, I glared at the top of his smug looking head. "Ran," I growled. "If you're going to do this... do it!"  
  
He chuckled huskily, "Indeed, you are impatient, Hidaka." But I could hear the barely contained desire riding on his voice.  
  
He didn't hesitate any longer. His right hand slid gently around my balls, kneading them ever so softly as his left hand firmly gripped the base of my erection. I arched my back and moaned loudly, my mind going dizzyingly blank as I felt the first exploratory touch of his wet, warm tongue against my slit. With long, methodical strokes he teased me mercilessly until I was dripping sweetly into his waiting mouth and the sound of my driven cries mixed with his breathless panting.  
  
What I felt that first time at Ran's hands was mind blowingly different than anything I had ever felt before. He was so tender and attentive, yet so slow and teasing at the same time. I wanted to scream for him to get on with it as it seemed as if time dragged on forever, his attentions never ceasing or leaving me a moment to collect myself. But the words never made it past my choked cries. My knees began to tremble, becoming weaker and weaker as my body was engulfed in pure erotic pleasure. I felt myself losing my grip on the table, and wanted so badly to sink to the floor, but Ran wouldn't let me. He kept me standing, shaking with desire and begging to be released.  
  
When he released the base of my shaft, and ceased to play with me with his tongue and drew my head fully into his mouth, I though I would lose my mind. He took me in deeper and deeper, and as he did my breaths became shallower and shallower. I could barely moan his name as I at last tangled my hands in his hair and he took me that last bit, pulling me entirely into his mouth. I cried out silently as I arched my back madly, thrusting ever so slightly into him, the tip of my desire brushing against the back of his throat. I came, crying out harshly as that ultimate pleasure took me over and I spilled myself into his mouth.  
  
He pulled away from me almost immediately, covering his mouth with his hand, and turning away quickly. My knees gave out and I slid down the desk, sweat dripping slowly over my skin as I sat trembling, my legs still splayed before him. My eyes fluttered open and closed as I tried to catch my breath. Running a shaking hand though my damp hair I tilted my head back against the hard wood behind me, and tried to breathe deeply.  
  
Then I felt his cool hand on my face. I opened my eyes slowly to gaze into his beautiful face. There was a softness in his eyes that made me want to cry. I don't know why, but tears seemed like such a very real possibility. He smiled gently and pulled my head up, pressing his sweet lips to mine in a very tender, very much in love kiss. I could taste the husky earthiness of myself there and it made me tremble that much more.  
  
A thought occurred to me and before I could think better of it I blurted out. "What did you do with it?"  
  
He gave me the weirdest look and then smiled and rather stupefied smile. "What do you think I did with it?"  
  
I looked at him blankly and then realized what he had done with it. Kase had never swallowed my cum... ever. He'd hardly ever let me come to an orgasm when he'd taken me in his mouth. I know it's kind of a perverted thing to find meaningful, but it was. To me it was, it meant something that Ran had so willingly taken all of me into himself. And as I thought about these things all I could say to him was, "Oh."  
  
He shook his head and smiled again. I loved it when he smiled. He kissed me again then, a little more passionately than before, but I didn't mind. The only thing I minded was the feeling of freezing concrete on my bare ass. After a few more kisses I told him so and we chuckled softly as he hauled me to my feet and dressed me again. Then as he took me in his arms and held me gently against his chest, whispering softly in my ear, I started to cry.  
  
I didn't mean to or even know why those salty tears slipped from my eyes and slowly soaked his uniform jacket. But it didn't seem to matter to Ran; he was happy to sway there with me, holding me solidly in reality, stoking my back, and petting my hair. I clung to him, weeping silently, wishing I could stop.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ran," I whispered. "I should... I should do something for you. Just..."  
  
"Shhh, you don't have to do anything. There's time," he said softly.  
  
"I don't know why I'm crying," I said quietly after a few moments.  
  
He pulled me closer, kissing my forehead gently. "Grief, Ken."  
  
"But why now?" I whispered. "Why should I grieve when I'm finally with you?"  
  
"Strong emotions play off each other. It's ok, grieve. I'll keep you safe, I won't let the pain destroy you," he said urgently.  
  
I sobbed against his chest, my arms coming up to clutch at his body, taking refuge in his warmth. He lowered us slowly to the ground again, resting his back against the desk where I had been only minutes before and pulled me between his legs. I buried my face in his neck, letting myself get lost in his scent, relaxing my defenses, letting him take the weight of my heart. Images and memories swam through my head and I just let them come. I didn't care about holding them back anymore. There was no reason to hide. Ran was there. I was safe as long as I was with him.  
  
When I had cried all my tears I started to tell Ran about my family, whatever came to my mind came out of my mouth. Paradise among the wretched. I don't know if he really cared, but he didn't stop me. His strong, assuring hands just kept caressing me gently as we sat together. It was peaceful and calming, and utterly wonderful. We stayed like that for the rest of the afternoon, almost two hours, until we had to walk up to the road to wait for the transport.  
  
I don't remember anything about the ride back to base that day, or even anything else that happened for that matter. But I know that when I went to bed that night I wasn't thinking about how things would end, or even what would happen the next day. And that's a good thing because the next day wasn't going to be all that great.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Afterthoughts: Smutty. Very smutty. I had originally intended for there to be a -lot- more plot in this chapter... but the smut came and took over. Once again... do I hear complaining? No.  
  
Oh and there was originally a random snippet of thought from Ken's mind smack dab in the middle of the smut, but Lilas (my grand beta-er) said it ruined the mood. So I am sticking it here for posterity. Go army boot!!  
  
"I have to take a moment here to explain how entirely foolish you feel doing these things while wearing army boots. It wasn't the uniform or the pants... it was the boots. They're just so... unromantic, probably the last thing you want to be wearing while trying to get into the mood. Or course at this point I was way over the getting into the mood part, I was already there, so I could ignore for the most part the idiocy I felt when I realized that I was wrapping army boot clad legs around my lover. Well, whatever." 


	13. Corina Corina

Disclaimer: I don't own them, and I didn't make up the Vietnam War either...  
  
Comments: Ok. I have been a bad slacker, I know. I know it gets really bad when people start randomly IMing me, telling me to get my ass in gear. It's just... well you know there are other things that I have to do. Like school work. And... those annoying people called my friends. Anyway. I am sorry that it's taking me so long to get chapters done, forgive me... if just this once. Anyway. I'd also like, for my own clarification and yours, to give a really brief Vietnam War timeline and just point out where all this stuff is happening. Ok?? Ok. You don't have to read it if you don't want to... but it will maybe help define the space in time a little better.  
  
Notes: Timeline!!!  
  
1965: America deploys troops to Vietnam for the first time. (Over 200,000 of them.) Lots of fighting in Ia Drang Valley  
  
1966: Bombing of North Vietnam begins. American/South Vietnamese troops manage to win several strategic battles. Home front veterans are starting War Protests.  
  
1967: Operation Cedar Falls implemented. More protests on the home front. Martin Luther King is speaking out against the war. Ran arrives in Nam. *claps go Ran*  
  
1968: Tet Offensive!! The Tet Offensive was a North Vietnamese attack that was launched during the New Year, a time the Vietnamese traditional held cease fires. The Americans and South Vietnamese were caught off guard and the North Vietnamese managed to sweep in and capture several very important cities, including Saigon. Though the American troops soon pushed the North Vietnamese back and recaptured most of the areas, it was a psychological victory for the North Vietnamese. Many soldiers began to question whether the war would ever end and moral was sent into a general downward spiral. My Lai: massacre of an entire Vietnamese village by Charlie Company. Very tragic, shed a very bad light on the US Army when news of this incident finally came to light in 1969. Paris Peace talks begin. JFK assassinated. MLK assassinated. Nixon becomes president. O_O;;;  
  
1969: Anti War demonstrations mount. Nixon starts bombing Cambodia, but doesn't tell anyone. Ho Chi Minh dies. Ken arrives in Nam in the spring. *claps go Ken!*  
  
1970: Kent State Incident occurs (protestors are shot at Ohio's Kent State when violence breaks out). Nixon begins to pull troops out of Nam in earnest, downsizing the occupying army to 280,000. The war rages on...  
  
1971: Pentagon Papers published. New York Times publishes information about the deception concerning US policy in Nam. Nixon not happy. More war. Downsizing continues.  
  
1972: 70,000 more American troop sent home ------ Ken is among these troops (so when he talks about 'the end of the war' he is talking about 1972, the end of his war). Hanoi and Haiphong bombed. Peace talks revealed, Kissinger is optimistic that peace is on the way. Watergate break in and more Nixon.  
  
1973: War officially ends as the cease-fire is signed in Paris. End of draft announced and the last troops are shipped home. Whee!!  
  
1975: The current year in which Ken is living. Mmmm. seventies hair... disco.  
  
And one last note (man I wrote a lot this time, but I haven't written any for like five chapters so deal). Towards the end of the war, since it was so long, most of the original and career officers had either resigned or been sent home. Due to this fact it was common slander that the commanding officers at the end of the war were less worthy of duty, and less competent. It was common to simply attribute screw ups to incompetent, young officers. So the whole Crawford thing isn't completely pulled out of my ass.  
  
Enjoy!!  
  
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It was late in the afternoon the next day, the sky was trying valiantly to clear; small, weak patches of sunlight fought their way down to the soaked earth, lifting the mood. Soldiers were spending the weather break outside of the bunk houses, organizing games on the muddy training field and horsing around. It felt good to finally be outside, able to feel more like myself than I had for the past month. Memories of the day before kept drifting through my mind, and I found myself spending a lot of time staring blankly into space, smiling softly. The gunners were working maintenance on the choppers, so Ran wasn't around that afternoon. I didn't really mind though. Every time I looked at him I started to grin like an idiot and I knew it was good for us, safe for us, to be apart for a while.  
  
"Yo, Hidaka, wipe that stupid smirk off your face, we're huddling up!" Schuldich yelled at me across the field. I'd allowed him to rope me into a game of full contact football. Football had never really been my sport. I was more of a soccer guy if the truth be told, but soccer required a little too much finesse for most of the characters gathered on the training field.  
  
Streaks of dirt ran down my face and uniform, bits of grass and wet clods of dirt stucking to me annoyingly. I could feel bruises forming on various parts of my body, and my joints were beginning to creak. Football really wasn't my sport. But in a way it felt good. It made me feel human and whole to be involving myself with the others again. I chuckled and shook my head, jogging towards where Schu and the rest of the members of the 326th AHC who had wanted to play were huddling up.  
  
It was the 326th versus the 14th Armed Infantry. The 14th were stationed at Pang Nuan for the duration of the rainy season after being pulled out of active duty along the Mekong River. They were a hardened, big, un-amused bunch and they were royally kicking our asses. Schuldich wasn't very happy about the whole getting creamed part of the game, seeing as it had been his idea to challenge them in the first place.  
  
"Ok, fuckers, this is the last play of the game, so don't fuck it up," he growled at us.  
  
"Schu," Mitchell interjected, "the only way we can win this game now is if we manage to make two touchdowns and a field goal, and that's physically impossible."  
  
Shculdich had glared at Mitchell, his green eyes clouding over in an un- amused fashion. "At this point it's not about winning, Mitch, it's about playing dirty. Take down as many of them as you can, go for the shins and the groins. We'll show these gorillas that even if we can't play to win we can play for keeps. And we might as well get one good play in while we're at it. We're going long and it's going to Kenny here-."  
  
"Why me?!" I hissed incredulously.  
  
Schuldich flipped his long hair and narrowed his eyes at me. "Because you're fast, you squirrelly little bastard. Now just shut up and get ready to run towards the end-zone as soon as we do that thing where we stand in lines, ok?"  
  
"I'm gonna get hurt, aren't I?" I snapped. The smell of sweaty, un-bathed soldiers was starting to make the huddle a little claustrophobic. I had the overwhelming urge to grab Trigger's arm, which was slung around my shoulders, and flip him kung-fu style onto his back. And don't think I couldn't have done it.  
  
Farf, having either ignored the gunner's call to maintenance or not required to attend due to his unactive duty status, which one I'm still not sure about, looked over and grinned at me wryly. His odd, yellow eyes caught what little sunlight there was, making them seem to glow. It was disturbing to say the least. "No worries, Nippy. Take one for the team, right?"  
  
Schu chuckled and reached across the huddle to ruffle my hair. "You're probably used to that, huh, Hidaka? Well... depending on which team he's playing for, anyway."  
  
Farf snickered as well and patted my back. I wasn't exactly sure I liked it.  
  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean," I grumbled. I really didn't like the sly smile on Schuldich's face. My heart beat a little faster, knowing all too well what his comments meant. Even if he was hinting in jest, just to get me riled, or share what he thought was a private joke with Farfarello, it made me very uneasy.  
  
We huddled for a few more moments, going over our game plan. Basically everyone was going to play as dirty as they could in hopes that they would clear up a space for me to go long and catch the ball, thus making it possible to make a touch down. I didn't like it, because I was pretty sure there was no way in hell I was going to be able to catch that football. Oh well. Such is life.  
  
Here's how the play went down. We did the set up and as soon as the ball was tossed backwards through Schu's legs I took off running towards our end zone. Schu was right about one thing, I was a fast mother fucker. Unfortunately I wasn't really paying much attention to what was going on around me. I didn't see that one guy to my right who was doing his best to keep pace. In my mind it sorta plays out like slow motion. I turned, saw Mitchell dropping back for the pass and then watched that ball come spiraling at me out of the sky a million miles a minute. It was gonna be golden. 'Clear blue to 22,' in pilot speak. Well... it could have been golden anyway if I hadn't stopped and let that ball bean me in the head.  
  
My hands came up to catch it, but that never happened. As the ball impacted with my forehead little lights burst behind my eyes and started to dance in the sky. If you want to know the truth I almost whispered "Oooh... pretty." At least I probably would have if the next thing I knew hadn't been the full impact of a very large, sweaty, and dirty body barreling into my back, shoulder first.  
  
The sad truth is, I'm not that big of a guy. I just don't come from a race of very big guys. We may be fast, we may be spry, but big, unless you're a sumo wrestler, just isn't really in the cards for most of us. Thus it's not surprise when Freight Train, as he was called among the 14th AI, ran straight through me I didn't just go down, no I went up first. I must have done a really nice back flip actually before I landed just short of on my head and lay, face up, staring blankly at the very spotty, light filled sky.  
  
"Holy shit, I think I killed him!" It was nice to know that after being bulldozed by a 340lb rifleman who had given up on the meaning of life that he still actually gave a damn.  
  
It was right about then that I realized I couldn't breathe. After a small panic attack I gave up on trying and just lay there. I could hear voice all around me.  
  
"Shit man," this sounded like Schu, "what the hell where you thinking?! He'd already been beaned in the head with the pigskin! You didn't have to run him over, you fat fuck!"  
  
"I was just playing the game!" Freight Train grumbled back.  
  
Farf's head swam into view at this point in time and he winked at me and then started to get really blurry. "Hey, guys. I don't think he's breathing," Farf said languidly. "And if that glassy look is any indication I think he's got a concussion."  
  
Farf... you're my hero.  
  
Then a swatch of orangey-red wafted into my line of sight. "Really?" it was Schuldich. "Well, shit. Let's drag him down to the infirmary before brain damages sets in. Yo, Hidaka!" he screamed. "No sleeping, Kamikaze King, you got that?" I think Schu slapped me at this point, because things got a little less fuzzy and with a gasp I started to breath again. It was remarkably painful.  
  
There's no point in going into detail about my trip to the infirmary. Suffice to say it was rather uncomfortable. When I fully came to my senses again it was about an hour later and I was lying in an infirmary bed, hooked up to an IV, which made me very nervous. Stirring uncomfortably I sat up and thought about yanking the needle out of my arm. The sudden appearance of Manx's disturbingly large hair, attached to the rest of her head of course, stopped me from doing so.  
  
"Hey, sleeping beauty awakes!" she said cheerfully. "You're the easiest patient we've had in here in a long time."  
  
"Can I leave now?" I asked bluntly, giving the IV a significant glance.  
  
She grinned and came to stand by my bed, pushing the curtain aside. "As soon as I check your pulse. And don't worry, it's just a little blood sugar. You had a nasty concussion, hon."  
  
As Manx lodged her fingers under my jaw and tapped her foot impatiently, looking at her watch I began to realize I hurt just about everywhere. As a minute ticked by I found myself growing more and more uncomfortable. Finally she pulled her hand away and gave me a wink. "You're normal. Shouldn't be any brain damage."  
  
"That's good to hear," I murmured sarcastically.  
  
She chuckled as she came around to the other side of the bed and pulled off the surgical tape around the needle in my arm. I watched with morbid fascination as she slowly pulled the IV from my vein, a tiny bubble of blood oozing onto my skin. She pressed a small piece of cotton onto the small hole. "Hold that there to make sure the bleeding stops, and then get your ass out of here," she said lightly, patting my shoulder.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," I grumbled, pressing my thumb to the cotton and swinging my legs awkwardly off the side of the bed. It was a painful process, and my whole body protested the movement. I can't even begin to describe how wonderful it felt to be able to stretch when I finally got to my feet. Heaven.  
  
I thanked Manx and then headed towards the exit. As I did so I passed several beds with soldiers still laying in them. They were amputees, mostly. Men who had lost limbs in the bombing in Sang Cho-na. Dizzying guilt swept through my body, making my stomach twist like I wanted to vomit. A few of them turned hollow eyes on me, and one even smiled. I smiled back and flashed him a thumbs up, but all the while I just kept thinking how they would feel about me if they knew I was the one who had brought that Gook kid here in the first place. The murmurs and grumbles I had heard over the past few weeks had all been blaming Crawford. Blaming him for allowing the kid treatment; blaming him for letting the enemy in through the front gate. The real story wasn't known. A part of me wished everyone knew the truth so that I didn't have to feel even guiltier for having the blame shifted to our commanding officer.  
  
I thought back to the first time I had seen Crawford. I thought about how the men had reacted to him, cheered him on as he made that speech. Those words that meant something to every man in this god forsaken jungle. And now... And now he was becoming the scapegoat.  
  
As I passed the nurse's station I heard my name called. "Hey, Hidaka! There's a note left here for you by your crew chief. He came in to make sure you weren't dead, but left again." It was Birman.  
  
Turning around I smiled and took the folded piece of paper she was offering to me through the station window.  
  
"You should have seen the entourage who brought you in here. It was something to see. A word of advice: don't play football anymore. Especially not against guys who are three times your size, eh?"  
  
I grinned and nodded. "Don't worry, Ms. Birman, I've had quite enough punishment for the time being."  
  
"Just remember that next time."  
  
"Sure."  
  
It was slightly more difficult than it should have been for me to get that piece of paper unfolded. It was a short note from Kudou, scrawled in messy, confused looking handwriting.  
  
"Come to my office after you wake up. There's something I need to discuss with you. Ciao, Mambo King."  
  
I smiled perfunctorily and stuffed the note into my pants pocket. I was glad that the officers' quarters were so close to the infirmary, it meant I could be sitting down again in a few seconds. My head was starting to kill me.  
  
The officer's quarters seemed oddly quiet. My footsteps echoed distantly down the empty hallway, and for some reason a strange apprehension had settled in the pit of my stomach. I paused for a moment before knocking softly on the door to Kudou's office.  
  
There was a brief silence and then, "Come in."  
  
As I opened the door I was surprised that the first person I saw as I entered the room was not Kudou but Lieutenant Commander Crawford. He had been sitting forward, staring blankly at the floor, his glasses resting on Kudou's desk, a cigarette dangling from between his lips. Smoke trailed lazily into the air, dancing with itself in the still room. As I entered he made to sit up, saw it was me, and went back to staring at the floor.  
  
Closing the door behind me I saluted to both of them. Kudou acknowledged my salute with a little one of his own, and Crawford only chuckled. "You don't have to salute me. I'm not your commanding officer anymore," he said coldly. With that he got up, picked up his glasses and something else off of Kudou's desk. It was thin and square, it took me a moment to realize it was a record slip case. "You sure you don't mind if I borrow this?"  
  
Kudou shook his head. "Take it. Everybody needs a little Dean."  
  
Crawford nodded, slipping on his glasses and then brushed past me and out the door without another word. I just stood there, not knowing what to say. What had Crawford meant he was 'not my commanding officer anymore?' I looked to Youji for an answer but he just looked back at me, his green eyes tired and frustrated.  
  
"Take a seat, Hidaka," he said gesturing to the chair that Lieutenant Commander had just vacated.  
  
Still holding the small piece of cotton to my arm I did as he asked and sat down heavily.  
  
"Feeling alright?"  
  
I nodded. "Yeah, it was just a concussion and some bruises," I answered.  
  
He stared at me for a moment and then took a deep breath. "That's good. Well, let me get the point, Hidaka. I asked you to come down here to find out if you were feeling fit to fly. Information has been filtering in, and new orders are imminent at this point. In short we're going to be flying missions again before the rain is over. I just wanted to make sure that you were feeling up to flying again... considering all that's happened lately. I'll be reinstating Schu and Farf to active duty considering this matter, so I wanted to make sure you were going to be able to go up too. I thought it would be good for you to have the season off, but now... well things change."  
  
I blinked rapidly. "Of course I'm ready to go up," I said quickly. "I'm a pilot, sir, and I'm ready to fly when you need me to."  
  
Kudou smiled and nodded. "I thought you'd say that. But I want you to think about it. If you're going to get rattled then I'd rather have you on the ground. So don't just say you're ready. From what I've heard things are going to be really messy out there. We're not going to be flying drop off and pick-up anymore. Take a little while to think things over."  
  
I shook my head. "I don't need special treatment, sir. I'm ready to fly. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty."  
  
He shrugged, not exactly the response I was looking for. "Alright, soldier, if you say so. I'll let you know when orders come in. Dismissed."  
  
I stood and saluted, getting a little wave in return. As my hand reached out to open the door I paused and turned back around. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"  
  
"Granted," Kudou sighed.  
  
I turned around. "What did Crawford mean?"  
  
Kudou shook his head. "You can talk to Crawford if you want to know that. I'm not at liberty to disclose any information concerning the Lieutenant Commander. But, I'm pretty sure you can figure it out. He's talked to you about it already after all. Give him some time and then go see him after mess. He likes you, Hidaka, so he'll probably talk to you."  
  
I nodded and then turned the door handle, stepping out into empty hallway once again. As I passed by Crawford's office I could hear the sound of Dean Martin music playing softly through his door. It was odd. The same sounds that had seemed so lively the last time I heard them filled me with a strange sadness now. I wished there was something I could do. But there was nothing. Life was shit.  
  
The sky was beginning to cloud back over, the few spots of sun which had illuminated the earth for such a short time dissipated, leaving only a bleak wash over the world. The air was so damp that my uniform seemed to cling to my body. Despite the rather clammy atmosphere I found it necessary to take off my jacket, tying it loosely around my waist. There were no drills, no training until after evening mess. As far as I was concerned the day was mine, not that it was turning out to be all that great of a day. My headache was slowly getting worse, and there was only one thing I could think of that would make me feel better.  
  
Rubbing at my eyes in agitation I turned towards the hangars.  
  
Men were moving around lazily, strutting back and forth through the open hangar doors, carrying pieces of equipment and tools. The air was thick with curses and carrying on, the scent of sweating bodies and grease was overwhelming. No one seemed to notice me as I wandered aimlessly around the edges of the work groups. Gunners from all the AHCs stationed on the base were climbing over the choppers in groups of two or three. I kept my eyes peeled, searching for that tell tale shock of red among the blur of greens and browns.  
  
"Oi, Hidaka! What the hell are you doing down here? Pilot maintenance isn't until Friday!" I heard a voice call out through the crowd. Guess I wasn't as unnoticed as I thought.  
  
Turning, I saw a semi familiar figure flagging me down from the hold of one of the UH-1s. He was a gunner in the 326th. Marshal "Ape Shit" McGregory. I didn't know the guy well, but I knew him as well as I knew anyone else in the 326th.  
  
I waved to him and made my way into the hangar, leaning against the side of the chopper. McGregory grinned at me, a toothpick sticking out between his teeth, and swung out of the hold. "You pilots. I dunno, man, you're too attached to these things. What? Are you afraid we're gonna hurt your babies?" he asked, cocking his hip.  
  
Shaking my head I stood up straight and gave the helicopter an appraising look. "Hey, we've got tofly the damn things. Just making sure you people don't fuck anything up."  
  
"Ha ha, very funny. Well if you want you can always make yourself useful. Grab a monkey wrench or something."  
  
"Hmmm, tempting, really. But I was actually looking for Fujimiya."  
  
Ape Shit's eyes narrowed and he curled up his lip. "Fujimiya? You really must be a masochist or something, Hidaka," he laughed, "no joke. Isn't having to live with the guy bad enough. I'm surprised you even get along with him. I mean... talk about antisocial. Not that I can really blame the guy. He's been through some shit, but haven't we all. Still. I wouldn't have wanted to live through Tet like he did. Lost a lot of pilots, has Ran Fujimiya. Did you know that in his previous company his nickname was Voodoo? Not to his face of course. Yeah I heard the last guy that called him that to his face ended up with some minor structural damage if you catch my drift."  
  
"Ape Shit, would you just shut up and tell me where he is?" I asked, getting annoyed at McGregory's tendency to babble.  
  
He thought for a minute and then shrugged. "He was working on outfitting a Bell at the back of Hangar four last I saw him."  
  
"Thanks. Don't fuck that chopper," I said, waving to him and walking away. He called something after me, but I wasn't paying attention. My mind was suddenly preoccupied with the realization that I knew absolutely nothing about my gunner, my lover. So much for taking some time away from Ran.  
  
Hangar four was relatively deserted. There were only a few choppers parked in the hollow, cement floored building. Four or five gunners were crawling in and out of the holds, adjusting this and that. None of them paid me any attention, their eyes fixed on their tasks. Memories, images, and sounds, swarmed into my mind as I allowed myself to focus on the choppers for a few moments. I could feel the way the squat, bulky machine called to me, my body remembered how it felt to dance through the sky. Suddenly I was strangely eager to be back in the air. I thought vaguely of my first out. The blood, the pain, the fear. All so tangible. Still so tangible. I wondered where all those men were now. All those men that I had transported, who had flown on the wings of my chopper to safety. How many of them, like Omi, had I saved in vain? How many were home now, trying to remember what life was like, how many were back in the trenches, back in the jungle, back in the swamps? I wondered. I wondered if the war would ever end.  
  
He was there, of course, working alone on an Iroquois at the back of the hangar. I didn't call out to him as I approached, only leaned against the jamb of the hold door and waited silently, watching him as he worked over the gun in the hold. Muscles rippled and strained beneath his white undershirt, his jacket discarded carelessly on the hangar floor. A sly smile eased across my face, as I watched him work. My headache didn't seem so bad anymore.  
  
It took him quite a few moments to turn around. And when he finally did he nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw me standing there watching him. Clutching his chest in surprise he skidded with a start and sat back on his heels, gasping slightly. It was priceless. His beautiful, indigo eyes, widened momentarily, lending a soft, childish quality to his grease streaked face. His hand left a dark, smudgy grease print on his shirt. The pale skin of his arms was also blemished with dark splotches and streaks. All of this was charming, but the most charming thing of all the fact that perched on his face was a pair of wire-rimmed glasses which slipped slowly down his grease marked nose.  
  
I loved the way he looked like that. There was something so unnamable about how alluring he was just then.  
  
I smiled, my eyes squinting up, and leaned into the hold a little. "I didn't know you wore glasses."  
  
He scowled at me peevishly and grunted. "I don't usually, but I'm farsighted, so to work up close on this kind of stuff it helps to have them."  
  
"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," I said slowly, softly adding, "there are a lot of things I don't know about you."  
  
He looked at me sharply over the rim of the glasses and then took them off, hooking one of the arms over the collar of his shirt and then started to get to his feet. "You look like crap."  
  
I scoffed and leaned back. "Gee thanks."  
  
"I'm serious. What the hell happened to you? You're eyes look like you've broken blood vessels or something."  
  
He hopped out of the chopper and brushed past me, snagging a cloth rag off the nose of the beast, wiping his hands though it. He stretched his back and grunted.  
  
"I got hit in the head with a long pass and run over by a man called Freight Train. Small concussion, nothing to worry about," I drawled.  
  
Ran paused and fixed me with an indecipherable gaze. His eyes flicked over my body quickly as if trying to make sure I was actually in one piece.  
  
"Hn. No permanent damage?"  
  
"Other than the fact that I see small purple men everywhere I look, no."  
  
"Hidaka."  
  
"No, there's nothing wrong with me. At least nothing other than this headache."  
  
"Go lie down."  
  
"I'm glad that you appreciate the fact that I came to see you," I snapped, massaging the bridge of my nose.  
  
He glared at me and took a step closer. He lowered his voice and spoke to me quickly. "Ken, don't be a prick. Of course I'm glad to see you, made my day. But if you had a concussion you should be in bed."  
  
The sharp scent of machine oil and the tangy odor of Ran's sweat mixed together with the smell of his body. It was intoxicating. I've never been able to feel the same way about grease. I took a step closer and covertly ran my hand along the soft fabric of his shirt, across his hard stomach and around his side. "You smell so good," I whispered, looking up into his eyes.  
  
He balked physically, his eyes widening, his cheeks flushing slightly. Seeing him blush for me like that made me crazy.  
  
Swatting at my hand he hissed at me, "What are you doing?!"  
  
"Wanting you," I hissed back.  
  
"Ken, that's it. No more stupid chances," he snapped, pushing my hand away. He glanced nervously towards the front of the hangar. "We can't be reckless anymore, I'm serious."  
  
I chuckled, reaching up to touch him again. "Ok, whatever you say. One kiss, and then I will leave you alone."  
  
He glared at me. "Ken. I am not going to kiss you here in the hangar. Out of the question."  
  
"One kiss. Then I'll leave and go lie down. One kiss," I murmured.  
  
He glared at me, and I could see the debate in his eyes. Unable to make any verbal reply he eventually gave up and instead grabbed my wrist, hauling me around to the far side of the chopper, facing the hangar wall. Without so much as another word he pushed me roughly against the side of the Iroquois and took my waiting lips, descending on me as if humoring some callous child. But I wasn't going to let him play petulant. This was my kiss. Grabbing his hips I pulled him against me, bringing my thigh up sharply between his legs. I felt him tense and took advantage of the moment to coax his mouth open, exploring him, pulling his tongue into my mouth, sucking it harshly before biting his lip.  
  
I broke the kiss without warning and looked up at him coyly. "Thanks," I whispered and then slid out of his grasp, walking away quickly, leaving him breathless and bothered. I didn't even look back.  
  
Despite my valiant effort to take Ran's advice and lie down for the rest of the afternoon I failed rather miserably due to the fact that Max and Jei were intent on listening to the radio. Actually their real intent was to keep me from getting any rest so that I would eventually agree to go to the rec center with them to play cards. And I did.  
  
I was weird, sitting around that table. I hadn't played cards with the boys since Omi's death, and his absence hung over our gathering like a bad stench. Every time I caught sight of the empty chair beside me my spine would tingle and my skin would crawl. It was eerie, but I kept thinking that next time he would be there, a huge pile of smokes in front of him, that indulgent smirk that meant he knew how badly he was kicking our asses on his face. But of course he never showed up. Swanny, however, did join us, dragging himself in out of the weather to sit heavily in the empty chair.  
  
I remember that he looked like shit and I wondered vaguely if I looked like that to everyone else, too. Hollow eyes peered out from beneath the brim of his uniform hat, glowing with a parasitic madness. His skin was tight and drawn, so pale it was like paper. He smiled at me with cracked, bleeding lips, and gave me a breathy little chuckle. A poll had already been started, by Schuldich I'm sure, to see how long it would be before Swanny went section eight. It wouldn't be long.  
  
"How's it hangin', Swanny?" I asked quietly, shuffling the cards in my hand.  
  
"Oh, you know. Could be better," he answered in a strained, thin voice.  
  
"Want me to deal you in?"  
  
"Well, I didn't come here to jack off, so yeah," he answered staring at me intensely.  
  
The look in his eyes was undecipherable, and is scared the shit out of me. I could see myself reflected in Swanny's eyes. I knew that if it hadn't been for Fujimiya, I could very well have been half way mad as Swanny by then. He'd seen it. He'd seen it all, he'd been there. I couldn't imagine.  
  
As the afternoon wore on we were joined by more members of the 326th AHC. Cue Ball, Chicken Bone, and Mitchell all filtered in, and joined in the heroic attempt to make me lose as badly as possible. Not as if I cared. I still didn't smoke. By the time the horn for evening mess sounded I was cleaned out of all but two sticks. These I tucked into my breast pocket intent on giving them to Ran later. He'd appreciate the gesture at the very least. The cards were collected and the table was slowly evacuated to the sound of manly grunts and cigarette hoarding.  
  
As I got up from the table I felt a claw-like hand grip my arm. I had turned quickly, knowing all too well who it was that was reaching out to me, afraid to look back, but more afraid to pull away. Swanny's haunted eyes bored into me, and his grip tightened, skinny fingers digging into the fleshy part of my arm.  
  
"Can I talk to you?" he asked harshly.  
  
Unable to deny him I nodded hesitantly and let him lead me away from the others as they dispersed towards the mess hall. He pulled me after him, out of the rec hall, underneath an overhanging eave and then finally released his grip on my arm.  
  
"What did you want, Swanny?" I asked cautiously.  
  
He turned on me quickly and smiled weakly. His mouth opened slightly, but then closed again as he took off his hat and ran a shaking hand through his hair. Finally he looked at me again and shook his head. "I don't really know, to tell you the truth, Hidaka. I just thought... I dunno. I can't explain. I feel so scattered, so guilty, you know. And... and I know you've been having a hard time too, so I thought... Shit! This isn't like me!" he cried, suddenly lurching forward and grabbing both of my arms, shaking me slightly.  
  
"Swanny, let me go!" I barked.  
  
"You don't understand! I'm not like this, I'm not like you!" he cried. "I don't lose it, I don't! I have seen guys wasted and torn to pieces and shredded, and it was nothing, nothing! But now I can't shake it. I can't shake this feeling, this horror. Every time I close my eyes I see his face and I can feel him... piece of him on me, everywhere! I can't fucking shake it!" he screamed, his fingers clamping down into my arm farther and farther. Then with a terrified cry he began to cry hysterically, letting go of my arms, sinking down, covering his head with his hands. He rocked back and forth, murmuring to himself.  
  
"Holy shit... Swanny," I breathed, unable to hide my fear, backing away slightly.  
  
He chuckled strangely, turning his head to look up at me. Tears stained his face, making him look all the more deranged as the redness of his eyes contrasted with the sickly paleness of his skin. "Why... why is this happening to me? Why aren't you falling apart? I can't hold myself together, Hidaka," he whispered, glaring at me. "I... can't shake the guilt. Why wasn't it me? Why not me?! I should be dead. I should be..." he trailed off and then buried his head in his arms again, rocking back and forth.  
  
I didn't know what to do. I couldn't just leave him there... could I? Taking a step towards him I started to speak softly. "Hey, Swanny. Let's go to mess, ok? Don't go section eight on me here. C'mon, get up."  
  
At this he had chuckled again and stood up shakily, casting me a dark glance. "You know... you look just like one of them. You're everywhere aren't you... damn Gooks," he hissed.  
  
Standing there alone with Swanny I was suddenly very afraid. I didn't like the look in his eyes, or the words that were coming out of his chapped lips. "Back off, Swanny," I snapped, trying to sound forceful. I was really aware for the first time that Swanny was a lot bigger than I was. He was taller, heavier, and more powerful. He leered at me, his lip twitching, his eyebrows furrowing.  
  
"Why, Hidaka? You think I'd turn against one of my own? But like I said... all you damn Gooks look the same. Why do you get off? Why do you get to shake it, when I can't? He meant more to you, didn't he?! Why the fuck do I have to lose it?!" he screamed, lunging at me, slamming me back against the concrete wall of the rec center.  
  
I felt my breath leave my lungs in a startling whoosh. This really wasn't my day for being banged around. I tried to yell at him, but all that came out was a croaking grunt. His eyes flashed crazy, and I knew he wasn't even thinking about what he was doing.  
  
"God damned Gooks," he screamed, and slammed me against the wall again, this time my head whipped back and whacked against the bleak, unforgiving surface. I'd already suffered one concussion that day, and my vision started to get a little blurry.  
  
"Get off of me!" I cried fiercely, trying my best to fight him off, but it was a losing battle. Steeling myself for another wall slamming I closed my eyes and waited for the worst, but it never came.  
  
"Swanny, what the fuck?!" the angry shout shot through the heavy air and next thing I knew two sets of hands were grabbing Swanny, pulling him off me. I heard the unmistakable sound of skin impacting skin and Swanny hit the ground. I felt strong hands supporting me. Looking over warily I saw Farf grin back at me and wink.  
  
Schuldich was standing over the stricken form of Swanny, his hands balled into tight fists. "You crazy mother-fucking bastard! What the hell is wrong with you?!"  
  
"Schu, don't," I cried, reaching out, using Jei for leverage as I pushed myself up.  
  
Max shot me a quick, angry glance, his green eyes flashing.  
  
"Let's just go to mess," I sighed. "No hard feelings."  
  
Swanny shifted and pushed himself up on his elbows, snuffling pathetically, new tears forming in his eyes. He looked at me and choked. "Ken... I... I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry," he said in a choked voice. Then he slowly got to his feet again and shot Schu a wry smile. "Thanks, Max," he murmured and then backed away slowly, keeping his eyes on me. "I am so fucked." And with that he turned on his heels and sprinted across the base. To where, I could only guess.  
  
Farf patted my back, whacking a bit harder than was really necessary. "You really shouldn't hang out with the crazies, Nippy," he cooed harshly.  
  
"Then he shouldn't be standing there with you, you lazy-eye psycho," Schu quipped, sauntering over to us. He gave me a wry grin, tossing his long hair and then ruffled my head. "Let's go to mess. Forget about Swanny. He's section eight already."  
  
I couldn't think of anything to say, so I kept my mouth shut. A part of me was dying.  
  
We were late to mess. I was still shaking on the inside as we got our food and sat down. Ran gave me a curious look from where he sat farther down the table and I gave him a weak smile. I would tell him about it later. Shrugging he went back to his dinner.  
  
I tried to force myself to eat, but my appetite was completely gone. I kept seeing Swanny's empty eyes, hearing his hysterical voice. Standing suddenly, I pushed my food away from me and backed away from the table.  
  
Schuldich looked up curiously. "What now, Hidaka?"  
  
My mind flailed around, searching for a reason, an excuse, something. Crawford. I was going to go see Crawford, like Youji said. Hearing about someone else's problems would chase mine away. At least temporarily.  
  
"I just remembered... I have to go talk to the Lieutenant Commander. Er... excuse me," I said hastily, turning and fleeing the mess hall. I don't know why I suddenly felt so claustrophobic in there. It was as if the smell of the food was going to make me vomit. I couldn't stand it. I ran out into the evening and across the field towards the officers' quarters.  
  
For a moment I let myself sag against the outer wall, catching my breath. It was then, as I slumped against the cold, heartless concrete of the building that I started to hear it. Or at least it was then that I realized I was hearing anything. At first it was just an indistinguishable keening, an overlying mass of sound. It grew louder as I slowly dragged myself towards the door, and as I pushed it open, stepping into the echoing, empty hallway within I realized what it was.  
  
It was Dean Martin... again. Playing so loudly that it could have probably made my ears bleed. It almost made me giggle, the absurdity of it. I imagined that Youji was cranking it to purposefully annoy Crawford. But I realized I had seen Youji in the mess hall, sitting near Ran in fact, and that Crawford had borrowed the record earlier in the day.  
  
I knew something wasn't right. I could feel it. The air was so still. Nothing moved or stirred, there was no sound save that of Dean. Irrational fear settled in the pit of my stomach as I moved down the hallway to pause at Crawford's door. It was definitely the source of the music. It was so loud now that I could barely hear myself think. I knocked hesitantly.  
  
-I love Corina! Tell the world I do! Tell the world I do! I pray each night she loves me too-  
  
I felt like an idiot for knocking. There was no way in hell that Crawford could hear me over the blaring music. I couldn't even hear it. As my hand settled on the handle, the trepidation in my stomach redoubled and I found the knob slippery beneath my suddenly sweating palms.  
  
-Corina Corina! Corina Corina! Corina Corina! I love you so!  
  
The door swung inward with no resistance and as it did so I was accosted by not only the ever increasing volume of the music, but a sickening smell that I knew only too well. It conjured up images of gore slicked chopper holds, and fleeing men. Blood and gunpowder.  
  
-Oh little darling, where you been so long? There aint been no lovers since you been gone!-  
  
I stepped into the room, how foolish of me. A single lamp illuminated the Lieutenant Commander's desk, spreading a pool of soft, ambient light on the scene there. My mouth fell slightly open, my eyes widening slightly. My breath caught in my throat and I gagged, unable to believe my eyes. Bradley Crawford was slumped in his desk chair, his eyes, open but unseeing, stared blankly into space, his mouth slightly agape. Blood had trickled down his chin, and poured over his uniform, leaving a dark, glistening stain on his chest. Behind him on the wall his brains were spread out in a splatter of impressionistic quality. There was blood on everything. On the wall, pooling on the floor.  
  
-Corina Corina! Corina Corina! Corina Corina! I love you so!-  
  
Still unbelieving, empty and in shock I took a few halting steps forward, my breath coming in sharp, short little pants. Mechanically I made my way to the side of his desk and looked at his lifeless body. The rifle he had shot himself in the mouth with lay on the floor near his chair, sitting in a small pool of blood. I looked down, realizing, detachedly that there was too much blood on the floor to be just from his head wound. It was then that I saw his arm, dangling at his side. His wrists were slashed as well, small dribbles of blood still slowly draining from his veins. Bradley Crawford was never a man to do anything halfway.  
  
-I left Corina way across the sea. I left Corina way across the sea. If you see Corina send her home to me!-  
  
It was only as I simultaneously realized that Crawford could not have killed himself more than three minutes before and saw the words "Land of the Free" scrawled across the papers on his desk in blood that I came to my senses. All the hairs on my body stood on end as the horror of the scene before me came to full strength and I gulped for air, back peddling towards the door as fast as I could.  
  
-Corina Corina! Corina Corina! Corina Corina! I love you so!-  
  
I was ready to lose my mind. There was nothing. Nothing but death and insanity all around me. I was truly in hell. My back met a wall and, no longer able to stand, I sank to the ground. That's when I started screaming. I couldn't stop. I screamed and screamed. But nobody could hear me. The music was too loud.  
  
-Corina Corina! Corina Corina! Corina Corina! I love you so!-  
  
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Afterthoughts: They're droppin' like flies!! Mou. I killed Brad... But these things happen. Surprisingly I like this chapter a lot more than I thought I would. I hope the ending had the effect I wanted it to, and wasn't just random and bizarre. Anyway. Hmmmm.. I was reading over old reviews for this while trying to inspire myself to write. I wonder if the people who reviewed way back when are still reading. This is so long I wouldn't be surprised if they gave up. Heh.  
  
Anyway... speaking of reviews *glare of death... points to button* I will smite you ALL!!!! Please review, ne? I know that it's taking me longer and longer to get chapters out, but knowing someone cares does help. *pats Ruadhagan* See... it helps to bug me. So here's to all the lovelies who badger me online!! *cheers* *huggles the lovelies (aka. Ya-chan, Mako- chan, Lilas the Wild Child, Fei, and Ruadhagan)* And anybody else who feel like bugging me or saying hi, please do so!! (My AIM name is in my bio.) I'm not scary and I don't bite... I am kinda annoying, but other than that... No, seriously I am addicted to AIM... I think it stole my soul or something. Why am I rambling like this?! I am sure that nobody even cares. *sighs* Bleh. Well... back to studying psych. ~_o  
  
Press it press it press it press it!! *points to button* 


	14. This Too Shall Pass

Disclaimer: There once was a man from Nantucket, whose... Ok, I'll stop. Not mine, not yours, but always a pleasure.  
  
Comments: Look at this!! What is this?! And update from Marty that took less than a month to get done?!?! Could it be?! Yes yes it could!! Hans took a short vacation and I took advantage of the opportunity to write this down in record time before he came back and sat on my creative processes once again. Anyway, this is really long! 22 pages on my computer, so hang in there! Marty went to Walmart today... she bought Cheese-its. She is happy. Ok, so onward!! Enjoy and don't forget to review of else I will find the ugly stick and beat you with it!!!! Later.  
  
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The taxi pulls up to a stoplight, the slowing motion gently rocking me back into reality once again. Banzai snuffles and looks up at me nervously from where he is resting his head in my lap, and my lips twitch into a tiny smile as I continue to gaze out into the bleak world. I notice absently that we've pulled up next to a park. I can see a large pond beyond a line of trees. Children playing happily despite the rain.  
  
I realize that it isn't raining anymore. Golden swathes of light are filtering ethereally through the clouds, bathing patches of the wet earth in soft light. It reminds me of those long empty days in the rain when the sky would clear just long enough to remind you that life went on, to make you want to bathe in the sunlight another day. So brief, so beautiful.  
  
"I'll get out here," I say suddenly, tapping the cabby on the shoulder before I know what I'm doing.  
  
As I reach for the door handle he looks back at me sharply. "Hey! The old lady said I was supposed to take you home, buddy."  
  
I shove my weight against the door and it pops open. Stepping hastily out onto the rain slicked pavement, I reach into my wallet and pull out a ten spot, tossing it back through the door and into the front seat. "Thanks," I say flatly and then whistle to Banzai as he hops down from the cab. Without a backwards glance I dodge between the other cars at the light and walk purposefully towards the shining world before me.  
  
Thinking about nothing, at least trying to clear my mind, I pick up sticks, tossing them for Banzai, watching them arc out over the sloping grass. He bounds after them gleefully, no other thought in his dog brain than to get that stick and bring it back. Do it again... do it again... do it again... please...  
  
I find myself catching my breath as the echo of those words sounds in my mind with different meaning. Whispered remembrances, hastily insisted pleas. Warm breath on the shell of my ear, warmth... everything was so warm. But I'm getting ahead of myself again. Those memories, so painful and sweet. They torture me more than anything else. I want to let myself fall into that pain and live in the past, in that one past. Forever, it was whispered, forever and ever, never let go.  
  
I wanted to hang on. I would have, but you can't hang onto nothing. When there's nothing left, when groping in the dark leaves you empty handed, you can't hang on to the darkness alone. But I've tried. Oh how I have tried.  
  
"Hey, mister! That's a groovy dog you got there!"  
  
The sound of the child's voice makes me jump as it rips through my reverie. Sucking in air sharply I turn around to see three children standing, staring at me. How bizarre. Smiling weakly I shake my head. "Thanks, boys."  
  
"What kinda dog is he?" one of them asks.  
  
"Greg, you don't know that it's a he," one of the kids, the only girl, says sharply. "Isn't that so, mister?"  
  
I smile and squat down, so that I can talk to the kids on their level. "Yeah, that is so. But Banzai is a boy dog. And he's a mutt, a little of this, a little of that. Mutts make the best dogs, cause they're smart."  
  
The little girl looks a little crestfallen that Banzai is in actuality a boy, but she perks up again when the first little boy starts to talk again. "That's cool. I wish I had a dog, but my mom thinks they're dirty. Is your dog dirty?"  
  
I shake my head. "Not at all. Sometimes I think he's cleaner than I am," I chuckle. The kids find this pretty funny and giggle along with me. "You guys can play with him if you like."  
  
"For sure?! Awesome!" one of the boys, the younger one cries. The older one is giving me a funny look. I grin at them and nod.  
  
"Hey, mister. Are you a Gook? My dad told me not to trust Gooks, cause they're sneaky. He fought in the war against the Gooks. You look like a Gook," the older boy says, his eyes narrowing.  
  
I think about Swanny and Nagi for some reason, and find myself smiling sadly. Kids these days. Shaking my head I reach out to ruffle the kid's hair. He pulls away slightly, but doesn't protest. "No, I'm not a Gook. In fact I fought in the war your dad did, see?" I point to my name on my army jacket and the AHC pin on my lapel. "So it's ok, you can trust me."  
  
The kid looks like he still isn't so sure, so I pulled my hand back and glance out over the grass to where Banzai is chewing up the end of his stick. I whistle. "Oi, Banzai! Come 'ere boy!" His ears prick and he springs to his feet, tongue lolling happily.  
  
"Russell, Greg! What are you doing?! How many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?!" The voice, high pitched and panicky, draws me back to the present situation. I turn my head again to see what is obviously the mother figure hurrying towards us.  
  
Greg, the little one, turns around and calls out, "It's ok, Mom. He's not a Gook, we already asked!"  
  
I almost start to laugh, but the woman just looks so highly flustered, blushing as she rushes forward to collect her children, that I contained myself.  
  
"Gillian, your mother is going to be worried about you, run along back to the swing set," the woman says hastily as she grabs her sons' hands. "I'm sorry about this," she mumbles perfunctorily, glancing at me.  
  
"It's alright they were just..."  
  
"Awww, Mom! We were just gonna play with his dog!" the little boy cried, tugging against his mother's arm.  
  
"Dogs are filthy," she snaps. "I'm sorry they bothered you." She shoots me another swift, nervous glance and then begins to drag her children away. I wave at them as they cast me one more backward glance.  
  
I sigh. Such is life.  
  
By the time Banzai reaches me, yipping excitedly, an emaciated stick hanging out of his mouth (,) the kids are long gone. I pat his head and shrug. "Sorry boy, there were almost some playmates for you. How about we take a little walk?"  
  
There is a gravel path that runs the circuit around the pond, so, jamming my hands into my pockets, I nod to Banzai and head out. It isn't a very long walk, but for some reason I feel so tired after going only a little ways. Up ahead I can see a swing set set up a little farther up the rise. Looks like a good place to sit down. Trudging up the hill, I call softly to my dog, "Go find a stick, boy." And off he goes.  
  
As I lower myself into the swing, feeling the dull ache of tension in my back and legs, I sigh heavily, gripping the wet chains with my shaking fingers. I hope that Mary isn't trying to call me at home to make sure I got there. If she is, and finds out I'm not there she's not going to be happy with me. What a pain... but I guess it's nice to know someone cares. The thought makes me smile and I think about my mother. And Yuriko. And Kase.  
  
Kase... I never did contact him, not even when the war was over. For all he knows I'm dead. For some reason this thought gives me comfort. Even after everything, I'm glad it can be so easy on him. He probably never even thinks about me anymore. He probably doesn't care. I wish it could be that easy for me to forget. Not Kase. I'm not talking about Kase, screw Kase. I stopped caring about Kase the first time I felt Ran Fujimiya's lips descend upon my own, the first time I realized that I had never known what love felt like until then.  
  
Kase was nothing. Sloppy firsts. The thought makes me smile.  
  
I rest my forehead against the cold, thick chain and close my eyes. I might as well get this over with. I might as well just give in. I feel that warm breath against my ear, hear the words echoed in my mind. God, what I wouldn't give...  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Eventually Ran and Kudou found me. Everything between finding Crawford and Ran finding me is a blank in my mind. Later Ran would tell about how they found me... us, Crawford and I. He said that I was just sitting against the wall, staring at Crawford. I wasn't screaming anymore, my voice was gone, but my lips moved quickly, forming hushed, unintelligible words. I know now that I was most likely talking to myself in Japanese. I had always had a tendency to do that. Whenever I got stressed or flustered the words just started coming out. It had always been bad enough being picked on in school for being Asian, but the fact that I would start babbling uncontrollably in another language only added fuel to the fire.  
  
Ran told me later that Kudou had vomited just after he turned down the music. His shaking hand slipped from the knob as he doubled over and retched beside the Lieutenant Commander's desk. Kudou and Crawford had been close, comrades in arms, fellow officers. I knew that Kudou had done all he could to save Bradley Crawford from himself, but in the end it was to no avail.  
  
What I next remember is being jolted into reality as Ran shook my shoulders. The rocking motion, my head nodding forwards and backwards made me ill. I'd been shaken and beaten and punished enough for one day. Crying out I tried to push him away. I didn't want anything to touch me. It felt already as if the room was closing in, and my head spun with a sickening dizziness. The smell of blood and gunpowder and now vomit as well was overwhelming.  
  
"Yameru!!"* I screamed, my voice cracking in my ears, protesting its use.  
  
I'd tried to pull away from Ran. For some reason I had to see Crawford, my mind demanded that I validate the horror. It was so unreal, I couldn't believe it. I was going crazy, everything was going crazy. But Ran's hands were holding me firmly, not letting me go anywhere. Struggling against him I shut my eyes and fought as hard as I could.  
  
"Yameru, bakayaro! Iya! Hitori ni sasete!"* I cried, not even knowing that he couldn't understand me.  
  
"Ken!" he cried desperately. "Ken, stop it. You're scaring me. Look at me!"  
  
The sound of his voice, so full of fear and desperation drained all of my strength away. I could no longer fight him and so I suddenly fell still, my head falling forward, my arms drawing inward to cover it. "Ie... onegai... onegai... yameru onegai,"* I whispered, pleadingly. I just wanted everything to stop. I wanted the smell to go away, the pain in my head to go away, the images assaulting me to go away. My breaths came in choked, desperate gasps as I felt my airways constricting as I began to sob. I shook with the power of my grief and confusion. Tears slid from my eyes and down my face in a hot stream of bitter salt.  
  
"Hidaka...," my name slipped from Ran's mouth like a tiny cry of helplessness. I couldn't look at him. I couldn't do anything. "Please, Ken. I don't know what you're saying. Look at me, talk to me, please."  
  
"Fujimiya!" Youji's voice, harsh and strained broke through the little world of insanity around us. "Get him out of here!"  
  
I felt Ran turn, his hands never leaving my body. "I can't! I don't know what's wrong with him, he won't move!" he growled back at Kudou.  
  
"Then fucking pick him up, I don't care! Just get him out of this godforsaken room! Take him to mine until I can get this shit taken care of!" he cried.  
  
"Youji..." there was an odd, distant quality to his voice, and I realized that this was the first time I'd ever heard Ran call Kudou by his first name.  
  
"Just do it!" he cried. "Oh fuck, Bradley... oh God, Brad, why?!"  
  
Fujimiya turned back to me and I felt his hands fall upon my arms, prying them away from my head. "Hidaka, listen to me. Let's get out of here. Come on, Ken, don't do this now!" he cried.  
  
How could I deny him anything? Shaking, I lifted my head and looked at him blankly. How beautiful his eyes were then. Deep indigo reflected the darkness of my soul, shining in his unearthly pale face. Such flawless grace and beauty, such endless desire. His concern, his desperation made him all the more beautiful, as the pain of a wounded child shone in those deep eyes. I didn't want to make him look that way. So hurt and frightened that it shook me. But what could I do? I was drowning in the madness around me, drowning in the fires of a hell I could not reconcile.  
  
"Ran-kun... koibito... ai... ai shiteru, itsumo,"* those words just poured out of my mouth like liquid, tumbling over my tongue and lips. I knew he had no idea what I was saying, and indeed even I didn't know why I was telling him this now, but I wanted him to know, before it was too late.  
  
"Let's get you out of here," he said gruffly, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet. But I had no strength. My knees buckled as I caught sight of the gruesome display across the Lieutenant Commander's desk again. A keening wail built in my throat and I fell against Fujimiya. "Shit," he hissed, and then hauled me up into his arms, carrying me out of the madness and into the light of the hallway. I'd never been carried like that before. It was disconcerting.  
  
The rocking motion caused by Ran's movements was adding to my nausea. I just wanted him to leave me alone. I wanted him to put me down again, but I couldn't find the words to tell him. Now when I tried to speak nothing came out, not Japanese, not English, nothing. So I let him carry me, carry me down the hall, through the coming and going of the fluorescent lights overhead until we reached the officers' private rooms. We reached the door where only two days ago I had spent a careless, drunken evening. I recalled absently that I had spoken with Crawford immediately before that. That was really the last time I had talked to him. All of his words came rushing back. All the bitterness and disgust in his voice.  
  
He had only wanted to do his best, be the best that he could be and win that damn war. Another good man, driven to desperation, betrayed by the country he loved so well.  
  
The door was unlocked. Ran struggled for a moment with the knob and then quickly pushed his way inside, walking jerkily to Kudou's bed and setting me down. For a short moment while Ran collected himself and went back to shut the door I just lay there, breathing softly against the Lieutenant's blanket, breathing in the way he smelled. It was a pleasant smell, strong and comforting. Then I forced myself to sit up, drawing myself together in a tight ball, pushing my back against the wall.  
  
Ran came to sit near me, looking at me, peering intently as I stared through my knees at nothing.  
  
"Hidaka, say something," he said hoarsely.  
  
Opening my mouth I toyed with the few words that came to mind and rejected them, closing it again.  
  
The bed sagged and groaned as Ran moved closer to me, pulling himself up onto the bed. The cool caress of his fingers played along my cheek and I closed my eyes. His other hand reached up to touch the other side of my face so that he could turn me gently to look at him. He soothed my skin, running his cool hands across its flushed surface. "Talk to me," he whispered.  
  
This time when I opened my mouth a hiccup caught in my throat and I whimpered against the rising tears. Before I knew it I was crying again. Crying... always crying. I was sick of crying, sick of being so weak, but what could I do? "He killed himself," I sobbed almost without sound.  
  
The sigh of relief from Ran was audible. He didn't care what I said, only that I said something he could understand. Overcome, he suddenly gathered me in his arms and pulled me tightly against his chest, crushing me into him. My hands fisted his shirt, grasping him madly, as I buried my head in his chest. He rested his back against the wall and held me to himself, stroking my hair.  
  
"I thought I'd lost you," he hissed sharply against the crown of my head. "I thought you were gone... just like Swanny."  
  
The mention of Swanny's name made me weep all the more. I thought about my tormented comrade, a man that I had begun to think of as a friend, and I cried for him. It wasn't fair. Maybe Swanny was right. What right did I have to be getting on with things? Hadn't I loved Omi? My comfort, my solace was found in Ran. He was the only thing that kept me from just giving up and giving into the madness around me. But what right did I have to love him, and be loved by him? It was all on the sly, so secret and hidden. It was something no one else could have, an escape from the pain that only I could find comfort in. For the first time I felt guilty for loving Ran. Guilty and alone.  
  
Sucking in a wet breath, I struggled to sit up in his arms so that I could see his eyes. For a moment in time we were lost in each other, staring so deeply into each other's souls that it seared.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Ken," he murmured, running his thumb beneath my eye, trying in vain to banish the tears that fell freely down my cheek. "All I want to do is keep you safe, and I'm never there when you need me. I keep letting you get hurt. First Tsukiyono... now this."  
  
"Nothing is your fault," I whispered. "If it wasn't for you... if you weren't here to be with me, if you didn't... if you didn't care for me, then there would be nothing. I'd have gone crazy the day Omi died."  
  
He closed his eyes for a moment and held back a choke, before taking my face in his hands and abruptly bringing our lips together. He kissed me with such forceful passion, moaning and sobbing at the same time as if he couldn't control his longing. It was sloppy and startling. Not the most gracious or tender kiss, but it was undeniably urgent. He broke away, only to come back again and again to place one last kiss on my trembling, bruised lips. Finally he trailed a few hasty kisses along my jaw and then pulled me against him again, panting in my ear.  
  
"I won't let you get hurt again. I won't lose you. Not this time. I won't. I won't!" he said fiercely crushing me in his arms. Oh the blissful warmth, the endless comfort that I found there. Clinging to him, I breathed in his scent, and was soothed. But even so my guilt could not be shaken.  
  
"I don't deserve this," I whispered. "Everything that has happened is my fault. My fault that Omi died, my fault that Crawford was blamed. All because I couldn't ignore that damn Gook kid... I couldn't leave him to die."  
  
"I wouldn't have fallen for you if you had," Ran answered softly.  
  
"But then I wouldn't have needed you to either," I replied sadly.  
  
Ran stiffened at my comment and I knew it was cruel, but I couldn't help but think it was true. If none of that had ever happened I wouldn't have needed Ran to keep me safe and sane. I could have admired him from afar, been content to get just a little closer. It would have been so much less painful. I could have been so much stronger.  
  
Shifting against him, I pulled myself closer. "I'm sorry, Ran. I didn't mean to sound like that. Don't leave me, please. Don't ever leave me alone. I need you now. Stay with me... forever."  
  
He relaxed again, sitting back, pulling me partway into his lap. Wrapping my arms around him I rested against his chest, synchronizing my breathing with his. It felt so nice.  
  
"I will stay... as long as I can," he answered, kissing my head.  
  
I wasn't sure I was satisfied with his answer, but I knew the importance of not making promises. Closing my eyes I lay against him, waiting. I wasn't sure what I was waiting for, but I knew that I was where I wanted to be.  
  
I must have drifted off, because I was brought suddenly to my senses by the sound of the door opening. I tried to pull away, but Ran held me firmly against him. "Kudou," I said hastily.  
  
Ran looked down at me and smiled weakly. "It's ok. Don't worry about it."  
  
So I didn't. I just let myself stay there with him, watching apprehensively as the door swung slowly inward. Kudou stepped through, and turned slowly to appraise us. His face was so weary. His eyes were lined with dark rings and his clothes were smeared with blood. I realized that they must have moved the body. Whoever they were. I didn't want to think about it.  
  
Youji didn't so much as flinch when he saw us sitting there. He gave us a long look and then snorted softly, closing his eyes and nodding. "I figured as much," he muttered as he turned away. "Jesus, Ran, not again. Don't you ever learn?"  
  
Ran didn't say anything. He let his head tip back to rest against the wall and tightened his arm around me. I couldn't look at the Lieutenant. I didn't even want to know what his words meant.  
  
After a few moments the tension dissipated and Kudou turned away, going to slump in his chair. "Holy fuck," he muttered. "I called all the officials to tell them. The bastards couldn't even pretend to care. Just another officer gone the fritz. Shit. I... I just can't believe it. He was right here, right here earlier today, and now... he's gone. Brad... why? It wasn't that bad, Bradley. It can never be that bad."  
  
He looked up at me and I pushed away from Ran some, not wanting to be so obvious. It was awkward.  
  
"Are you stable, private?"  
  
"Er... I.. I think so, sir. Yes, sir. Yes, I'm fine now. I'm sorry, sir."  
  
"Screw being sorry. I would have freaked out if I'd been the one to find him. With that music... all alone. Jesus. Well, there's nothing more to do now. Take some pills and go to bed. I've gotta make an address to the base tomorrow. Get out of here, both of you. And don't do anything stupid," he said pointedly.  
  
Ran and I both understood what he meant. We didn't have to reply. Untangling ourselves from each other's embrace we stiffly got to our feet and left the Lieutenant's room without another word. He didn't seem to mind.  
  
For some reason, in my memory, that walk back to the barracks was the longest one I'd ever taken.  
  
A dark cloud settled over Pang Nuan the next morning after Kudou's address. Rumors had started flying the night before, all wild suppositions and accusations. But the entire base was blown away, caught off guard, by the reality of the truth. When all the details finally came to light it turned out that Crawford had indeed been relieved of duty, with intent for further investigation concerning the Vietcong bombing incident. He'd already been found guilty of neglect of duty, without so much as a military trial, and was on the fast track towards a court marshal and dishonorable discharge. Crawford hadn't been able to take it. He couldn't take being backstabbed and accused by the country he loved and served so well. His intentions had never been less than admirable. His death was his last statement, his final proof to the world that he was no traitor. He would rather have died still an officer in the US Army than lived a life of falsified shame. He wanted to die with honor.  
  
Of course that wasn't the way the officials liked to construe things. As far as they were concerned Bradley Crawford's suicide was nothing more than simple proof that he was guilty and knew it. He couldn't face the trial and the public humiliation of being brought to light.  
  
Brought to light for what?! He hadn't done anything. He'd only given shelter and care to a fellow human being. The consequences of that action were uncertain. It was all so much supposition.  
  
The days passed in a haze of routine once again. Everyone was oddly quiet as officials came and went, going over the story just one more time. Kudou was temporarily ordered to take over as the base commander, and he obeyed without enthusiasm. Ran and I continued to go into Sang Cho-na to teach English three times a week, but it was all just routine. I felt so very little. It was as if I had used up all of my strong emotions that one night, and now I was just floating.  
  
My nights became more and more tortured. Again and again I would wake up from nightmares, taunted by the faces of the dead and dying. I dreamt of the kid and Crawford and the man who had been thrown out of the chopper on my first out. Always there was so much blood. I could smell it in my dreams and I hated it. I would wrestle and fight with the souls of the dead and my own guilt. My nightmares were indescribably terrifying and when I woke I would be talking in Japanese again.  
  
Fujimiya tried to help me, but in the darkness of the bunk house I would always push him away. I didn't want anything to touch me when I woke from those dreams. Sometimes I couldn't even form coherent thoughts and would go on babbling inanely in my mother tongue. I think it was the talking in Japanese that scared Ran the most. He hated it. He would shake me if he could get to me and growl at me to speak in English. But it didn't matter to me. When he touched me I'd only yell all the more, so eventually, as the days and nights wore on he wouldn't try to stop me.  
  
I can tell you that the rest of the men in the bunk house were not too terribly pleased with me during that time. I imagine I woke them all up on more than one occasion, but nobody really seemed to want to do or say anything about it. I think most of them hoped I would just finally go section eight and get shipped out of there.  
  
It was only after Swanny tried to commit suicide a week later and was consequently shipped north for therapy, that I knew I couldn't take it anymore. I didn't want to end up like him, and I hated myself for making Ran worry so much that he was sick. I could see the helplessness in his eyes and he stopped eating well. My falling apart was breaking him, and I knew that if I couldn't pull myself together for my sake I'd have to do it for his.  
  
That's why I started taking the pills again.  
  
And it helped. I could sleep again, I could breath again, I could find happiness in Ran's company again. Things slowly started to get better. Base calmed down and another official commander was sent in. I never got to know him very well. After Crawford's death I really didn't feel like getting to know anyone well anymore. I never knew his first name, or even if the name we were given to call him was his real name, but he was known as Lieutenant Commander Botan.  
  
What I remember about him was that he was very much the opposite of Crawford. He was jovial and talkative. He often made the rounds to check up on the soldiers, taking time to chat with them about life and what not. Physically he was the opposite of Crawford as well. Where Crawford had been lean and tall, Botan was rather squat and blocky, a powerful looking man. He had a firm jaw line and impressive eyebrows. All in all he couldn't have been much different from our former Commanding officer, but that was probably what the army wanted.  
  
About two weeks after Crawford's suicide Ran and I were called to Kudou's office. There had never been any further discussion or mention from any of us about that night. Not one word, and it made me nervous. I was relieved to see that Jei and Max were already in Kudou's office when we got there. The meeting couldn't possibly have been about what he had seen between Ran and I.  
  
"At ease, men," Kudou drawled tiredly as the four of us lined up in front of his desk. "I remember the last time I had all four of you in here is when this shit started," he grumbled as an afterthought.  
  
The four of us exchanged glances and I saw Schuldich shift uncomfortably.  
  
Kudou took out a packet of papers and flipped through them perfunctorily and then sighed, leaning forward, folding his hands on his desk.  
  
"Alright, here's the deal. A new mission has come in. But before I can tell you anything about this mission I need to know that you are willing to participate," Kudou scanned us for a moment and then focused his attention on me. "Hidaka, are you fit to fly?"  
  
I felt myself balk at the question. Closing my eyes I thought about flying. My god was I ever ready to fly. Anything... anything that would get me off of the base and out into freedom. My fingers itched to be behind the controls, and I even missed the sound of gunfire. "I'm fit sir. I'm ready."  
  
Kudou kept looking at me. "You say that now... but things could get hairy out there. I don't want you losing it mid-flight. It's been known to happen. You feel fine now, but when you get back out there things change. I need to know that you are ready for active duty again."  
  
I paused. "I'm ready, sir. I came here to fly and I will."  
  
"I still want you to get checked out before this mission takes effect, but until then I'll take your word. Well then. Now that that's settled. I am assuming the rest of you are willing to put it on the line here. So let's get down to business. About three months ago several large units managed to break through, taking a significant chunk of land from behind enemy lines. Since that time they have been engaged in guerilla offensives with the Vietcong, holding their position and slowly trying to clear the area. Unfortunately it's been a losing battle for us ever since. About a month ago we 'officially' agreed to a withdrawal from the area if the North Vietnamese would give us the freedom to get our men out of there. This was agreed to. Of course things never go the way they are supposed to. A team of Green Berets was left behind in secret to continue to harass the Vietcong outposts in the area. The Army does not officially recognize this group, since doing so would obviously cause a lot of negative consequences in the peace talks. Nonetheless, we are supporting these boys. Since we have no official jurisdiction in the area there are no official supply lines running. They are wet, they are hungry, and they are getting a lot wetter and a lot hungrier with each day."  
  
"A pull out mission, sir?" Schuldich broke in curiously.  
  
Kudou shook his head. "No. Not at all. A supply run. Someone has to bring those boys ammunition and food. This mission is off the books," he said sternly, glaring at each of us in turn. "You cannot talk about it, this never happened. It's a night mission. A late fly. You will leave here just before dusk on the appointed day and return by noon. Getting there is more important than getting back, I'm sorry to say it, but that's how it is. The risk is high. You will be flying solo, just the two choppers, over Viet infested territory. The drop will be hazardous. I won't dick around with you. There is a very good chance that the four of you will never be standing together in this office again. But this mission is imperative. There are a lot of wretches counting on you."  
  
We were each then given a mission briefing packet to look over. We weren't allowed to take them with us. We were going to be heading out in three days. We'd be assigned our co's tomorrow and be re-briefed with them then. With that we were dismissed and the four of us walked from the room giving one another nervous glances. I wasn't sure I liked the way the mission was shaping up.  
  
None of us said anything as we made our way back to the barracks. We weren't allowed to anyway.  
  
The next day Ran and I were trucked into Sang Cho-na for our class. We were going to have to tell the students that class was canceled for the rest of the week. I just hoped that they'd understand.  
  
On the way into the village the driver looked back at us and grinned. "The rebuild on Willy Ng's is done, did you know? I heard they re-opened last Friday. If I were you two I'd head over for a drink, pick-ups not coming into town till about nine tonight. Might be a good chance to get a little... recreation in. If you catch my drift," he said, chuckling.  
  
I smiled at him weakly, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Ran glance at me momentarily before going back to stare at the passing road. I wasn't sure what to make of his glance.  
  
Class was long and unusually boring that day. The only amusement lent to the situation was the prostitutes and their confirmation that Willy Ng's was indeed open for business again. We were invited to come and see for ourselves... "Me love you long time." Just peachy.  
  
When the class dispersed Ran radioed the base to confirm that pickup was late. It was. We were stranded in Sang Cho-na for at least seven hours.  
  
"Ugh, what the hell," I grumbled. "We have a briefing, don't we?!"  
  
"If there's nothing we can do, there's nothing we can do," Ran replied quietly. He was sitting with his head bowed over the radio as if he were tired. His hands were folded in front his him, his hair fell into his eyes.  
  
I walked over to him, my boots scuffing along the cement floor and put my hand on the back of his neck. He breathed softly at my touch and murmured. I let my fingers work gently against his skin, trying to soothe the tension there. "Is something bothering you?" I asked.  
  
"What about you?" he countered. "How are you, Ken? I can't tell anymore."  
  
I was a little startled by his statement and pulled back. "What do you mean?"  
  
He shook his head and turned to face me. "I just don't know. I can't tell if you are here or gone or what anymore. You were such a wreck, and there was nothing I could do for you. Now... I don't know if you're ok, or hurting still... hurting more. I feel like I can't do anything."  
  
I stared at him for a moment, and let my eyes fall. "I'll be ok." I didn't want him to know that I was taking the anti anxiety drugs again. I felt like doing so was betraying him. But sometimes... love wasn't enough.  
  
"And what about this mission? Are you ok with it?" he asked, reaching out to take my hand. I let him twine his fingers with mine.  
  
I scoffed. "Of course I am. I'm a pilot, flying is what I do, Ran."  
  
He shook his head, his eyes becoming slightly angry. "Didn't you listen to what Kudou said? The chances of getting shot down are high, Ken. We could die, or be captured. You could die, I could die, Farfarello and Schuldich could die. If you want to know the truth, Hidaka, I'm scared. I'm scared that this is going to be over, that I will lose you without ever having known you. Without ever having held you the way I want to."  
  
It took me a moment to realize what Ran was saying, what he was trying to tell me, and when I did I felt my stomach clench as my eyes snapped up to meet his. He was right. One or all of us could die the next day, and I could lose my love for Ran, never having been with him, never having given myself to him.  
  
"Ran..." I trailed off, not knowing what else to say.  
  
He stood then and put his other hand on my cheek. His eyes were unfathomably deep and soft. He stared into me sadly and then kissed me once. "Will you come with me?" he asked tentatively.  
  
He didn't have to say where. I knew where. And without hesitating I nodded. "Anywhere," I whispered.  
  
Thus we locked up the school room and made our way up the slope, walking the road into the village.  
  
I felt my heart quicken fearfully as we came upon the newly finished, scrubbed and polished façade of Willy Ng's: American Style Bar. I remembered how the place looked the last time I had been there, and the last time I had been there wasn't something I enjoyed remembering.  
  
Ran saw my hesitation and misinterpreted. He paused and looked up at the sky. "If you don't want to do this..." He cast me a small glance and I could see the potential hurt in his eyes.  
  
I smiled at him, shaking my head. "That's not it at all. I was just thinking about the last time I was here, that's all. Let's get out of the street, I think its going to start raining soon."  
  
I followed Ran into the bar, and not surprisingly it was fairly empty. Along the bar a few older farmers sat hunched over, nursing their glasses. We were greeted enthusiastically by Willy.  
  
"Ah, GI, GI! Welcome to Willy Ng, yes yes. Have a seat I pour you whiskey, huh? A drink and then maybe... eh?" he chuckled. Again I had that odd feeling that his mustache wasn't real.  
  
Ran glared at him and then pulled his wallet out of his pocket. "One room, no whore, leave me alone."  
  
Willy stopped mid greasy smile and blinked rapidly. "Ah... ah so, of course. Sure sure, you wanna room, sure a room. Why not? You sure you don't want a girl, I got new girl, young girl. She very good sucky sucky," Willy simpered as he shuffled back to the bar. Slipping behind it he ducked down and when he popped back up he was holding out a key. "No girl, you sure? So so, twenty dollar, last room, all the way down. What you want room for anyway? I dunno, you sure no girl?"  
  
"I'm sure," Ran said darkly, handing a twenty to Willy, and taking the key. He didn't even look at me as he turned and headed for the stairs. I have never since or before felt that awkward in my whole life. I didn't look around as I headed after Ran, I really didn't think I would be able to stomach it.  
  
I remember vividly every detail of that room. It exuded a sense of filthy depravity. It was the kind of place where you feared to touch anything and anything you did touch had a strange stickiness to it. Nothing looked or felt clean, but at that point in time we weren't in any position to be picky. The headboard of a bed was shoved against the far wall, a single window was cut into the wall adjacent to the bed. A pale, sickly light shone in through what I later realized was plastic, not glass. There was a single skinny table with a bowl of water on it set just inside the door. The bed itself was an old iron frame and a single mattress on a board. The mattress was covered with a bottom sheet, stained with things I didn't even want to guess at, and a top sheet that was also stained, although not to the same extent.  
  
But like I said, I didn't care.  
  
I heard the door click shut behind me and then turned to look at Ran. When our eyes met something very odd happened. We were both suddenly very shy, and I could see a faint blush chase across Ran's white skin. He took a few steps towards me, holding out his hand and I took it, closing the space between us. I reached up tentatively and touched his face, feeling how warm his skin was beneath my trembling fingers.  
  
"Hey there," I said softly.  
  
He smiled and put his hand on my hip, tugging gently. "Hey." We stared at each other for a few more moments, smiles playing across our faces as we suffered under the awkwardness of the situation. "Are you sure about this?"  
  
Bringing Ran's hand to my lips I kissed his fingers softly, closing my eyes, brushing my cheek against his knuckles. "I'm sure."  
  
The grip he had on my hip tightened and pulled me towards him. He was smiling at me, tenderness shining from deep in his eyes. "I want you so badly," he murmured as I kissed his hand again, nipping the soft skin.  
  
"Then take me, I'm here for you, Ran," I answered, looking up from his hand.  
  
He kissed me then, his lips hesitantly brushing mine as I breathed into him. He sighed deeply, taking my face in his hands and pressing his soft lips to mine, searching for acceptance. And he found it. I moved my lips against his as warmth spread through my entire body, my stomach twisting and filling with feathery wings. The faster my heart beat the more urgently I pressed myself against him, my arms reaching around his back, my hands tangling in his jacket. When I pulled his tongue into my mouth, playing a dangerous game of push and shove with him, I felt his hands suddenly trail down my neck, slipping into my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders and down. I understood and swiftly released him, shaking off the remains of the confining garment, letting it fall away, unimportant. And then it was my turn to begin to undress him.  
  
Soon we stood, kissing with an unbridled, fervent need, Ran's hands cradling my face as I ran mine just under the hem of his white undershirt. I couldn't help myself. I couldn't get enough of the way his skin felt. It was unbelievably soft and smooth, both warm and cold. My hands caressed him unceasingly, wanting more, massaging the muscles of his strong back as my arms slipped farther around him.  
  
Panting, we moved against each other, swaying to a rhythm that only we could hear.  
  
"Ken... oh, God," he whispered harshly as he began to lick my neck. I groaned, blushing deeply, digging my nails into his back as he began to nip at the sensitive skin below my ear.  
  
"Mmm," I murmured softly.  
  
He stood straight, flushed and panting, and looked deeply into my eyes. "I want to touch you, see you, everywhere. We have time, Ken. Let's take our time," he said softly.  
  
I nodded and leaned up to kiss him again. "Time is good."  
  
Ran then took my hand and led me to the bed. We both stood for a moment, looking at it skeptically. "It's better than the floor," I said bluntly.  
  
Ran glanced at me and grinned. "True. I wish this could be..... more intimate, better, something. I'm sorry, Ken," he sighed.  
  
I shook my head, touching his face. "Being with you is all that matters to me. I don't care where. This is perfect." To show him that I meant it I sat on the edge of the bed and leaned back, smiling at him with come-hither eyes.  
  
Ran looked at me strangely for a moment and then sat beside me, reaching out to run his hand over my chest, tracing the outline off my muscles with his fingers. He let his fingertips brush ever so slightly over the buds of flesh which were quickly responding to his attentions. A rush of air escaped my lips and I closed my eyes. His touch alone was heavenly. Endlessly blissful.  
  
Then his hands moved beneath my shirt and I sat up so that he could lift if from my body, peeling it off slowly. The lightness of my heart was almost unbearable as his hands began to move over my bare flesh. I burned and tingled, elated by his touch. His kisses fell once again upon my lips, pulling me farther and farther into him. Reaching out, I searched for his shirt, groping blindly as my eyes squeezed shut against the sensations. I wanted so badly to feel his bare skin against mine. Nothing else mattered anymore.  
  
Soon I had succeeded in my goal, and I took a moment to breathlessly observe him, his beautiful body revealed to me as he sat there, looking back with love in his eyes. I grabbed his dog tags and pulled him towards me, chuckling softly. As I lay back, pulling him after, the coolness of the sheets met my back making me shiver unexpectedly. He leaned over me, watching me intently and then kissed me again, his tongue running over my lips to be met with my own. I can't even begin to describe how it felt to be with him like that. The world just faded away, everything was gone but him and me and that tiny room.  
  
Hands reached out, exploring, testing, teasing. Bodies shivered and moaned, asking for more or less. We played like this for some time, content to experience each other fully for the first time. His mouth explored my body, starting at my neck and traveling over my chest, stopping to suck agonizingly at my nipples, making me cry out softly and tangle my fingers in the silken coolness of his hair. He continued his descent until he could tease my navel again; it seemed to be one of his favorite ploys. I chuckled softly as his breath and lips and fingers all tickled my skin.  
  
Here he paused, resting his porcelain cheek against my shivering stomach, kissing my skin once and then sighing softly.  
  
"I could be happy like this forever," he said softly.  
  
Unable to find anything to say in response I said nothing, only ran my fingers soothingly through his hair. We stayed like that for a short time, just being with each other, no words needing to be said.  
  
Finally he sat up again and reached out for my hand pulling me after him and then pulling both of us to our feet. Our eyes met and I knew what he wanted. Closing my eyes I asked him to kiss me, and he did, taking my lips gently. I knew what to expect next, but I still jumped when I felt his hands on the waist band of my pants, tugging at the button, pulling at the fly. I groaned softly as his fingers brushed over my waiting arousal. I followed suit and let my own hands travel to his fastenings.  
  
We undressed each other slowly, taking our time to appreciate each other and attend to each other's unspoken pleas. When we lay back down on the bed, embracing tightly, never wanting to let go, I thought I would die from the happiness I was feeling. My heart had yearned so long for the acceptance and caring I felt in Ran. For so long I had felt so alone and abandoned. My family rejected me, my friend, my lover as well. And here, finally, I was wanted. Loved even; even if he couldn't tell me so.  
  
I was so hungry for him.  
  
Lying beneath him, caught up in his arms, I spread my legs and let him settle between them. He moaned gently as I arched my back and rocked against him, our members rubbing and growing harder at the touch. My breath caught in my throat as the friction grew between us, our hips meeting, the pace speeding and slowing in a mock of love making. The burning heat grew in my body and I wanted more, sweat breaking out on my skin and I spread my legs farther. My breath came in short pants as did his, our breath mixing and mingling within each other and without.  
  
"Ran... ngh... more! Ah! Oh God, please," I breathed, twisting beneath him, raising my hips as I clung to him feverishly. I just wanted him to touch me everywhere. I wanted to feel every part of him against every part of me.  
  
He didn't speak as he kissed my collar bone and raised himself up above me, leaning back so that he knelt between my legs. I blushed as he looked down at me and I up at him. I was so shamelessly exposed, bearing my need for him with no protection from his intense gaze.  
  
Those long fingers... what exquisite torture they could wreak upon my senses. He began then to stroke my shaft, brushing the tips of his fingers over my most sensitive spots, rubbing with aching gentleness against the slit at my head. My precum wept forth and he gathered it on his fingers. I could do nothing but tremble and moan beneath his ministrations. Splutters and gasps caught in my throat as he moved me forward, on towards completion. But I knew he would not make it so easy for me, and the knowing made my pleasure all the more intense.  
  
When his fingers rubbed tentatively against my anus for the first time, little ripples of erotic shock coursing through my bloodstream, I cried out wordlessly. My back arched off the bed and my fists involuntarily grabbed at the sheets. It had been so long. So long since I had done anything like this, and even then Kase had never made me feel this way. He had never been so patient and attentive. I felt the slickness of my own essence on Ran's finger as he stroked the tight muscle around my small entrance. Heat rushed my face and I moaned as one of his fingers slid inside of me. Oh god it felt so good! He stroked the soft inside lining, crooking his finger, slowly, tortuously massaging the sensitive flesh of my inner body.  
  
"A-... ahhh... un... oh, Ran," I gasped, sounds catching in my throat, unable to escape.  
  
When he began to insert a second finger my eyes flew wide, a long groan seeping from my throat. Now along with the pleasure there was pain. Wonderful, exquisite, sensual pain. I forced down a small cry and bit my lip, my whole body shivering at his intrusion. Then I forgot all about the pain as his fingers began to work inside me again. The deeper he pushed the more my head spun, darkness crowding in around my vision, moans and whimpers coming unbidden to my lips. And then, finally he brushed against the hidden center of my pleasure.  
  
"Ran!" I screamed, arching my back, bucking upwards, my muscles contracting around his long, slender fingers.  
  
As if to purposefully torment me he then withdrew his fingers, leaving me waiting and panting before him. I moaned at the emptiness I now felt within me, and shakily forced myself to sit up. I wanted to see him, to be near to him. My legs were spread around his waist, so I simply pulled myself forward, wrapping my arms around his neck, so that I could kiss him. I felt weak, and my kiss was sloppy, but I don't think he minded. I leaned farther forward so that I could kiss and lick along the flawless skin of his neck.  
  
"Let me touch you," I whispered in his ear and my hand slipped down from his neck, sliding between our bodies and down, down his silken skin until I found what I was looking for. He wasn't as hard as I was, I had not yet paid him any attention, so I wrapped my hand around him and began to stroke him gently.  
  
The fluttery breaths he issued were all the encouragement I needed to continue, and continue I did. He held me tightly, resting his head on my shoulder, panting against my skin. His teeth grazed me, nipping sensually as I attended to him. His fingers dug into my back. I loved what I could do to him.  
  
He tensed and shook. "No..." he whispered, "Not yet, not yet. Aa-... Ken, wait, not yet."  
  
I understood his plea and slowly ceased my rhythm, releasing him and trailing my hand over his abdomen. He sighed, both from frustration and relief and then pushed me back onto the bed again.  
  
"Hey, it's not nice to push," I chuckled huskily.  
  
"I wasn't worried about being nice," he answered, kissing me with a smiling mouth.  
  
For a moment we play wrested, nipping and scratching, tickling and touching, until I wrapped my legs around his waist and used all my leverage to flip us over so that I was leaning over him, straddling his body. I grinned at him wolfishly. "I win," I intoned.  
  
He looked up at me with hooded eyes and smirked. "Are you sure?"  
  
I nodded and then leaned down to kiss him passionately. He opened his mouth and I explored him deeply, tasting him so fully that I can taste him still. When I pulled away I smirked right back. "Positive."  
  
"I'm not so sure," he answered huskily as his hands came up to grip my hips. "As far as I'm concerned you're right where I want you."  
  
"I guess that means we both win," I murmured, rocking against his abdomen, the friction causing me to moan softly.  
  
Quickly overcome by the erotic haze that moving against Ran was causing I could do nothing but obey him as I felt his hands begin to guide me backwards, pushing on my hips until I felt the head of his erection brush against the cheeks of my ass. I shuddered, knowing what came next, wanting it and dreading it. To make love to Ran, there was nothing I wanted more, but this... I didn't think anymore as I lifted myself up, and let his hands guide me as I positioned myself above the tip of his engorged cock. I spread my legs even wider, wanting to grant him access to my most private self. My body trembled as I waited above him.  
  
The pulling on my hips told me it was time. Neither he nor I could wait any longer. Neither wanted to.  
  
Lowering myself slowly I let him take me for the first time. The pressure of his head against my anus made me groan loudly as my eyes slid shut and I licked my lips. An aching, burning, growing pain spread all through my loins as he entered me, pushing past the tight band that sought to close off my body from him. Gasps and shivers took over my body and I cried out, arching my back. God lord, it had been so long. Slowly, gradually I continued my descent, his thick member pushing farther and farther into me, pushing my bones aside, forcing there to be room.  
  
My eyes teared as the pain built, but Ran's hands kept me steady.  
  
"Go gently, Ken," he moaned softly, his hands gripping my hips that much tighter. Looking down at his face I was taken away by the pleasure I found etched there. His brows were furrowed and his mouth worked over the tiny gasps and whimpers that escaped it. He was beautiful. The fact that I could do this to him made me want him all the more, and I pushed myself farther onto him, letting him impale me. Then, no longer able to stand the suspense, knowing I was only prolonging my own torment I grit my teeth and shoved myself down onto him the rest of the way.  
  
We cried out at the same moment. A sharp, short scream tore from my throat as he moaned long and loud, his body tensing at erotic pleasure swept though him.  
  
After a moment I found my breath and took a quick gasp of air. So deep. He was so deep inside of me. He touched that spot, pressing against my prostate, causing unbelievable ecstasy.  
  
Quivering, shaking arms reached out, holding and caressing as he pulled himself up, sitting against me. My legs wrapped around his back as I shifted, now sitting in his lap. Hands fisted hair, mouths sought each other blindly, as bodies trembled against each other, taken away by and overcome with pure sensation.  
  
For a time we sat together, merged as one, and did nothing but feel and touch and appreciate. Nothing stirred, we were simply one. Tears slid from my eyes and his as well. We sought to kiss them away as the fell, but it didn't matter, for these tears were not tears of pain or regret. They were tears of love and happiness and bliss.  
  
Then he stirred with in me, rocking, thrusting into me gently. I clenched around him, gasping and moaning. We started a rhythm, awkward at first as I struggled to synchronize my movements with his own, but soon we were moving slowly together, long deep strokes touching that place every time, making my head spin and swim, causing the room to dance. It felt so good. So amazingly good, unbelievably. Nothing had ever felt that good in my whole life.  
  
That time with Ran was not my first time. Of course not. Kase and I had been lovers in every sense of the word. But with Kase... letting him take me was always something I had endured for him, it had never been particularly enjoyable. In fact it was often so abrupt and rushed, to the point of being truly painful. Kase didn't mean to hurt me, he would never have wanted to hurt me, but he just didn't think about it. I never complained, I just endured it for him, knowing he took pleasure from my body. I never thought it could be any other way.  
  
But at Ran's hands I felt nothing but pleasure. Feeling him within me, stirring and moving inside of my body though admittedly painful at points was wholly nothing but pure ecstasy. He was so patient and giving, moving so gently, so slowly.  
  
As we made love for the first time on that bed I was transported to another world. His strong arms encircled me, holding me firmly in that place and time. Nothing mattered anymore but what he made me feel. Whimpers and moans, cries of passion and pleasure filled my ears and throat. I had never made love before. Never like that.  
  
Building towards our climaxes we both suddenly and urgently desired more. I urged him to take me deeper, faster, harder, whatever! I just wanted more. Then I was on my back again as he knelt between my knees, rocking into me again and again. In and out, back and forth, my hips moved with his, rising and falling, meeting and pulling away. I cried out again and again, crying his name, crying for release. He did the same, panting and moaning, seeking my lips with his to quiet our cries.  
  
And then, suddenly it was over. Everything inside of me went tighter than a spring. I tensed, and felt the telltale contraction of my insides. It took one more thrust from Ran, hitting home, to send me over the edge, and I came so hard that my whole body shook, warm, creamy strings of my seed spilling out between our bodies covering us both with my essence.  
  
"Aaah!! Ran... ngh... oh, my God."  
  
His orgasm followed mine, the automatic constricting of my muscles around him pulling him after me into climax. He screamed my name as I felt the hot, hard liquid stream as it spilled into my body, filling me completely and running out of me, dripping from my stretched anus and down my body as he pulled out of me. It felt so strange to be without him. My body quivered and trembled as I tried to move, but I couldn't. I was all but spent. It was all I could do to murmur his name and reach my arms out to him, pulling his head down to my chest.  
  
And so, in the afterglow we lay silently together, partaking of each other's warmth and comfort. I closed my eyes, and thought I might drift off to sleep.  
  
As I just began to drift away he nuzzled against the skin of my chest, kissing me lightly. He murmured something against my skin, something I wasn't supposed to hear, but hear it I did.  
  
"I love you."  
  
__________________________________________________________________  
  
* Yameru : Stop  
  
* Yameru, bakayaro! Iya! Hitori ni sasete! : Stop it, you bastard. No! Leave me alone!  
  
* Ie... onegai... onegai... yameru onegai : No... please... please... stop it, please  
  
* Ran-kun... koibito... ai... ai shiteru, itsumo : Ran-kun... my lover... I... I love you, always  
  
Afterthoughts: Well that was rather smutty once again. I hope it all seemed plausible and what not. Now you see that happy button at the bottom of the page? Hmmm? PUSH IT!!! C'mon, punk! Make my day.  
  
Review review. Push it push it push it!! 


	15. That's Why

Disclaimer: I stole the llama!! I admit it, I did it! Me me me!!  
  
Comments: *big sigh* I am so sorry this took so long. I really am. I would grovel and stuff, but that would be undignified. So instead I will tell you why it took so long. First of all I got smutted out. Yes, that's right, it -can- happen. So I had to take a smut break. This, it turned out, was a bad idea. For during my smut break I stared listening to Adam Sandler music again and was especially moved by my all-time favorite Adam Sandler song "Ode to My Car". Well this led to a short and rather random smut-break songfic which I posted with the word "shit" in the title (cause the song is actually "Piece of Shit Car"), not having read the update guidelines since the last time they were revised ever so long ago. Long story short... ff.net suspended my updating privileges for a week because my title/summary post on this story wasn't G. And it wasn't just until the 1st of December like I thought, oh no! It was until 11:21 PM PST on Dec 1st. So that's like 3:30AM December 2nd, so that's why I couldn't get it up on Sunday like I said I would. Anyway, so that was like the day before I finished this. And then it was Thanksgiving break and I sent it off to my beta'er and she was in NY with her family and couldn't get down to doing her business, which is normal over vacation time, and I just now got it and and and... bleh. So that's the story. And I would also like to warn you that I was slightly tipsy when I wrote a good chunk of this so if it seems cracked out, that's the wine talking. Anyway, but at long last here it is. Much is explained and there is more smut, so enjoy. R&R or else I will send a pack or rabid beast things like from that one movie I watched last night after you, complete with that French guy with the nasty arm. And you have no idea what I am talking about do you?! Muwahahahaha!! Ok, I go now. R&R!!  
  
Warning: High content of cheese and corn, please bear with me.  
  
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I didn't tell Ran that I'd heard him. In the afterglow of our lovemaking I didn't want to spoil anything, and words seemed out of place. I simply lay there, my heart beating faster than the flutter of a hummingbird's wings, and let my fingers run through his auburn hair. It wasn't long until I felt his slow steady breathing and knew that my lover had fallen asleep. Elated and very much in love I sighed happily and allowed myself to suffer the same fate.  
  
You must think I'm a terrible fool. At times, looking back, -I- think that I was a terrible fool. Yet, I know why I made the decisions that I did. I knew the risks involved in what we were doing, what we were attempting to do. I wonder sometimes if things wouldn't have been so bad for me if I'd never spent that time with him, if I'd never let myself make love to Ran. In the end it might not have hurt so much, but then again, it might have hurt more, knowing I lost my chance to give and take that intimacy. I will never regret that day. Sometimes I feel like it is the only thing I have left.  
  
When I woke up I was alone in the bed, covered with the sheet. Too groggy to be alarmed I stretched and murmured softly, tentatively moving myself into a sitting position. There was a strange rushing sound that I couldn't quite place, and it wasn't until I looked around and saw Ran leaning by the window that I realized it was the sound of rain pounding against the plastic pane.  
  
In my mind's eyes I can still see him leaning there so vividly. He looked so sad. It broke my heart to see him look like that, but he was so beautiful too. Sad and beautiful, that's how I always remember him. He had pulled his pants back on, zipping them up but leaving the button undone. His feet were bare, one of his legs bent at the knee, his foot resting against the wall behind him. His pale, flawless arms were crossed against his chest, one hand reaching up, holding a cigarette to his lips. I noticed that between the fingers of the other he was holding a thick piece of paper. It didn't take me long to figure out it was a photograph, and I had a pretty good idea who it was of. His head was turned to one side, his eyes distant, staring out the water-streaked window. The cigarette butt flared red once and then he pulled his hand away, exhaling softly into the room. I waited for a moment, letting the smoke patterns dance in the air before him and then dissipate before alerting him to my consciousness.  
  
"What are you thinking about?" I asked softly.  
  
Ran wasn't startled by the sound of my voice. He was hardly ever startled. He bent his head for a moment and took another drag before turning to look at me. "You woke up. Sleep well?"  
  
Nodding, I smiled softly. "Yes. You didn't answer my question."  
  
He smiled sadly and blew smoke out his nose in a short blast. "Not much to say about what I'm thinking. What do you think I'm thinking?"  
  
I started to shift around, making myself more comfortable. Leaning forward I clasped my hands around my knees and looked at him, my head cocked to one side. "I'd like to say you are thinking about me, but I don't really think that's the case." I let my eyes flick to where he held the photo in his hand and then looked back at him.  
  
He seemed startled by my words, his indigo eyes snapping up and widening as they met mine. His mouth opened slightly and then he looked away, taking another hasty drag.  
  
I chuckled and shook my head. "I'm not -accusing- you of not thinking about me, you just seem to have something else on your mind. Otherwise you probably wouldn't have gotten up and left me here to sleep by myself."  
  
He pushed off the wall and stood straight, running a hand through his hair. He cast his eyes down and then snubbed his cigarette out against the wall. "I'm sorry," he said softly.  
  
"No, that's not what I mean. Ran, it's fine, I'm just saying is all."  
  
"It isn't fine. I shouldn't be worrying about shit I can't change or do anything about. I -should- be thinking about you. I don't know... I just woke up and I didn't want to disturb you. You looked so peaceful. You never look like that when you are awake, so I left you alone."  
  
I grumbled and swung my legs out from under the sheet. Casting around I spotted my boxers dropped conveniently by the foot of the bed and fished around after them. I slipped my feet through the legs and then stood, pulling them up as I did. Ran watched me intently as I stretched and then took a few steps towards him. It was then that I noticed. "Hey... I'm clean. How did that happen?"  
  
Ran chuckled and pointed towards the door. "These people really knew what they were doing when they put that random seeming bowl of water in the room."  
  
"And I didn't wake up?!"  
  
Ran shrugged. "You were sleeping pretty hard, I just wiped us both off, that's all."  
  
"Hm. What did you use?"  
  
"My undershirt."  
  
I scrunched my nose up. "That's one shirt I hope you never wear again."  
  
At this he laughed and then eyed me warily. "How do you feel?" he asked cautiously.  
  
"I feel fine. I feel great. Thank you," I answered a little huskily as I made my way across the small room to stand before him. Circling my arms around his waist I kissed his neck softly. "So are you going to tell me what you're thinking about?"  
  
He sighed against my hair and simply stood there in my arms unanswering. Since he didn't answer I took it upon myself to let go of his waist and trail my hand down his arm until it covered his hand. I took the photo that he was still holding between my fingers and tugged it gently. "Can I see?"  
  
He jumped slightly, seeming to have forgotten that the picture was there at all. "Er..," he stalled and then sighed, "Go ahead."  
  
I took the photo from between his fingers, looking it over. I had been right in my assumption. It wasn't either of the photographs I had seen him in before, but the young man smiling amiably and flipping off the camera was most defiantly Yuushi, Ran's former pilot and former lover.  
  
You might think that I should have been angry or jealous or something like that. But I wasn't. I was just so sad for Ran. I could understand why he would think about Yuushi at a time like this, when he had just made love to me, told me that he loved me. Hadn't he most likely done those same things with the man who was flipping me off from that photograph? He had, I knew he had. Ran had loved him, loved him here in Nam and lost him. He must have felt so torn. Torn between his feeling for me, his fear of losing me as he had lost Yuushi, and also at least some sense of betraying his first love. Even I felt that. I know it will sound funny, stupid even, but even as I had made love to Ran and lain in his arms, I had felt a certain amount of guilt over it. Hadn't I told someone else I would love him forever?  
  
Ran hesitated for a minute, watching me as I looked at the picture. I didn't say anything, I just looked at it. I think he was surprised by my lack of reaction. "That's... he was one of my pilots..." Ran said after a moment, trailing off.  
  
"I know who he was, Ran," I said softly, hoping that my words carried their intended meaning. When I looked up, holding the photo back out for him to take, I saw the look on his face, the surprise and the hint of fear in his eyes and knew that they had. I could tell that an explanation was needed, so I cast my eyes down and tried to think of one. "Yuushi, right? Kudou told me about him the first day I was here. I asked him about you and he told me that one of your pilots who had died was your best friend who had enlisted with you. And then... well, you remember on my first day here when I tipped over your box of photos? I saw the picture and the letter that he had written to you. That's how I knew from the very start that you were... like me. You and Yuushi were lovers, like Kase and I."  
  
Ran's eyes were unreadable when I looked up into his face. I don't really know what I expected to see in them. I think I expected him to be angry for some reason, but there really wasn't anything like that in those deep, dark pools that seemed to tug at my soul. His cool, slender fingers brushed over mine as he reached out to take the photograph from my hand. I watched as he gave it one last glance and then tucked it into his back pocket. I wondered absently if he always carried it around with him.  
  
He didn't look at me for several moments, softly asking, "You don't mind?"  
  
In response I pulled him closer to me, one hand reaching around his neck, and tenderly kissed his lips. So soft and sweet. I wanted to chase all that sadness away. "Why should I?"  
  
He had made a funny sound in the back of his throat and then whispered my name before pushing forward to find my lips again. He let this kiss linger for long moments, before breaking away and simply holding my face in his hands. I smiled at him warmly and then tugged at the waistband of his pants. "How long before the pick up?"  
  
He glanced at his watch. "Until nine. It's just about six now, so another three hours."  
  
I made an appreciative murmuring sound and then placed my hand over his, taking it away from my face and tugging gently. "Come on," I said, pulling him back towards the bed. He followed me, shaking his head and smiling.  
  
We undressed each other again before crawling back onto the dingy matress. This time I curled up against his chest, my head laying against his heart as he held me to him. His fingers lazily stroked my back as I placed a couple small kisses on his collarbone. I yanked the sheet up and over us and then we lay in each other's arms in peace and silence. A warm haziness began to settle within me and I felt myself heading off towards sleep again. But I didn't want to waste the time we had together. I wanted to be there, in his arms, forever.  
  
I fished around in my head for something to say that would keep me awake and said the first thing that came to mind.  
  
"Am I like him?"  
  
"Hmm?" came Ran's groggy reply.  
  
"Yuushi... am I like him, like how he was? Are we similar?"  
  
Silence followed. I held my breath, wondering if I had gone too far, asked too much as I felt Ran's hand still against my skin. The room felt suddenly tense.  
  
And then the unexpected happened. Ran began to laugh. It started as a strangled chuckle in his throat but quickly turned into a full-blown laugh out loud. He tried to cover his mouth and still the mounting chuckles that built in his chest.  
  
He giggled on, snickering and chuckling as if I'd just told him the funniest joke in the world. "You and Yuushi?! *snicker*... *chuckle*" He just couldn't seem to stop himself until finally he coughed, swallowing the last of his guffaws, and simply stated, "No."  
  
I propped myself up, a bit annoyed at having received a response so different in tone than what I was expecting. I stared at him. "And why is that so funny?"  
  
He smiled at me, giving one more little giggle. "It just is."  
  
"Why?"  
  
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Why do you want to know?"  
  
"Because," I said, my voice dropping, suddenly serious, "I don't know anything about you."  
  
He looked at me intently, caught off guard by my accusation. He just stared up at me, lying back against the grungy sheets. "Ken..."  
  
"I don't," I said fiercely. "I don't know anything. I don't where you're from or anything about your family or anything. Tell me, I want to know. I want to know everything." I whispered, laying my head back down against his chest. "Tell me about your childhood, your family. Then tell me about him."  
  
There was silence again for a long time. Eventually I felt Ran's fingers begin to run through my hair and then finally he spoke. "My childhood, huh?"  
  
"Do I have to dictate questions to you? Fine, where are you from?"  
  
"New York."  
  
"City? Really?" There might have been too much incredulity in my voice, but I was actually surprised.  
  
Ran snorted. "No, I'm lying to you, Ken. Yes that's where I'm from. Well... ok I was born in Seattle."  
  
"Uh huh. And?"  
  
"What else do you want to know?"  
  
"Everything. What about your parents and your siblings and whatever?!"  
  
"So you want my life story, huh?"  
  
"Yes, Ran!"  
  
"Settle down, Hidaka. Settle down."  
  
So Ran told me all about his life. How he'd been born in Seattle, Washington the son of an unmarried mixed couple. A Japanese immigrant, Kotaro Fujimiya, and a white low class white woman, Charlotte Fitzgerald. When their fling ended with her pregnancy they did the only thing that was acceptable, they got married and moved out of town. He told me about growing up in New York's China town, how his sister was born there, and how he had met Yuushi in the neighborhood and had grown up with him. His parent's marriage was an unhappy one. His mother hated her circumstances, married to a man she didn't love and burdened with children she had never wanted because of one mistake. He told me how she had constantly belittled his father for being an immigrant and seemed to hold her own children in contempt for having Asian blood. Ashamed, his father made no attempt to teach his children about their Japanese heritage, spending as little time with his family as possible. Ran recalled that his mother had always been a hateful person, with a very bad temper and a tendency to drink. When he turned seven his mother left them. He had neither seen nor heard from her since; she simply vanished from his life. Soon after that his father fell into a deep depression and committed suicide, his last attempt to die with honor, a Japanese tradition, or so Ran had heard. He and his sister were both placed in foster care, and because of his sister's relatively young age she was adopted fairly quickly, which Ran never was. Even though she was adopted away from him, Ran was still allowed to see her and spend time with her. And even though he spent most of the rest of his childhood being bounced around between foster families, he was able to attend the same schools as his sister and Yuushi.  
  
"They were my only constants. I don't even remember the names or faces of most of the people I lived with, even the good ones, and there weren't many. I guess that's how I learned not to get attached to people."  
  
As soon as Ran had graduated from high school he got a job and got an apartment with Yuushi. It was then that they first became lovers.  
  
"I was so surprised the first time he made an advance. But I couldn't push him away. That was something I could never do. I'd always lived outside of society, so I didn't care if what we did was right or wrong. It didn't matter, it still doesn't."  
  
He paused for a moment and I gently stoked his skin with my fingers. I couldn't begin to wrap my mind and heart around the sadness that was Ran's life. I had never imagined that he could be so tormented. It only made me want to be with him all the more. It made me want to stay forever, to be one of those constants.  
  
"What was he like then? You said we aren't anything alike. How am I different from him?" I asked softly.  
  
"I don't know. You just are. Yuushi... he was... he was brash. He never listened to anybody, he just ran in and gave everyone shit. He always seemed to have something to prove. You're not like that. You want to do what's best for other people, you care about everybody, not about yourself. Yuushi didn't care about anybody but himself and the few people he felt he had to take care of. I guess I was one of those people. He was older than I was, by about a year, and he'd always watched out for me, ever since we were kids. When it got to be more than that I don't think it was really my idea."  
  
Here he paused and I felt his fingers slow through my hair. I didn't have to look up at him to know he was falling back into his thoughts, remembering the past. I knew that I had no right to drag him from that place, so I closed my eyes and made myself content to listen to the sound of his heart.  
  
  
  
"To Yuushi everything was a game," he resumed at some length. "He was never faithful to me, and he never tried to hide it. He thought of sex as just that: just sex. He'd say something like, 'It's just sex, Ran. Who cares about screwing? You know I keep the important parts of myself for you. I'll always love you best.' I hated it when he said that; 'I'll always love you best.' I didn't want best, I wanted only. He could make me so mad, and I would hate him for it. I hated the way he could make me lose my cool. We'd fight and he never lost, because no matter what he did I still loved him. He was the only person in my life who never left me, and he could be so wonderful when he wanted to be. He'd make love to me like nothing I'd ever felt, and I'd believe him. I'd wake up the next morning thinking, -believing-, things were going to be different. And he'd be gone," at this Ran snorted and chuckled. "What a dumb-fuck I was."  
  
I could feel my heart growing heavier and heavier with each word Ran uttered. I had asked him to tell me about Yuushi, and I was sorry that I had. I had expected him to tell me how wonderful he was, how in love they had been, how unbearable it was to lose him. But the more Ran talked the more I could see how deep his scars ran. I could see why he pushed people away, why he didn't want to let others in. I wondered if he expected me to treat him the way Yuushi had. But then I knew he couldn't, because if he had he would never have let me into his life like this.  
  
I kissed his chest softly, placing a small peck on his cool skin. "You don't have to tell me any more. I'm sorry. I-I didn't think it would be anything like this."  
  
His fingers continued to play with my hair. "No... I don't mind. I've sort of wanted to tell you for a while, but... I didn't really know how. I didn't know how you'd feel if you knew I'd had another lover here in Nam."  
  
I shrugged against him. "I knew the whole time, so it doesn't matter."  
  
"I know that now," he grumbled.  
  
I nuzzled his skin and kissed him again. "Why did he follow you to Nam if he was like that?" I asked.  
  
"Like I said, it was a game to him. He thought it would be fun to play soldier for a while. When he told me that he'd enlisted I had mixed feelings. I was glad, because I had been so afraid of being without him, but at the same time I regretted losing the chance to finally be on my own, and see if I could be without him. Sometimes I think that's why he enlisted. He didn't want me to have the chance to break away. He was very needy. That's why he slept around, always searching for affection. He followed me here because he couldn't stand the thought that I could be a person without him. He was very possessive..."  
  
"I'm sorry, Ran," I whispered.  
  
He chuckled. "Why? You didn't do anything."  
  
"That's not what I meant. I'm just so sorry that you had to go through that. As much of an ass-hole as Kase was in the end, I never doubted how he felt for me when we were together. Maybe I should have, seeing how things turned out, but I always felt loved by him."  
  
"Hn." Ran was silent for a few more moments then started to talk again. "But it was strange. Nam really seemed to take its toll on Yuushi. Things were all changed around here; it was Yuushi who needed me. It was like one day he just woke up and realized that we weren't playing a game anymore, like he realized people were really dying out there. He hated flying, he hated it when I went up without him. That's why he asked to become my pilot, even after my first two had died. He got to be a wreck, and his flying got sloppy, but they just kept sending us up. One night he crawled into my bunk and just fell apart. He lay there sobbing, begging me to forgive him and promising that if God just let us live he'd stay with me forever. The next time we went up, he lost control of the chopper when we were hit by a stray bullet; he just froze. Nose-plowed us right into the ground. The whole cockpit was crushed in. After that I just went blank for the most part. I was transferred to another unit and closed myself off. Just when he finally wanted to stay with me I lost him. He wasn't there to protect me anymore. I lost two more pilots and then you came along. I guess... maybe you two weren't totally different, at least... I watch you, I see you falling apart and I see him all over again. If I lose you too... I don't know what I'll do," he trailed off.  
  
I had never heard Ran talk so much about anything. I wanted to make him stop hurting, I wanted to tell him everything was going to be ok, but I knew that I couldn't make that promise. I didn't know that things were going to be ok. Still... I wanted to comfort him. He had comforted me so many times, it was my turn.  
  
I pulled myself up, crawling over his body until I could prop myself over him and look down into his gorgeous face. "I'm here now," I whispered as I leaned down to kiss him tenderly. "I'm here Ran, and I will never treat you the way he treated you. I don't love you best, Ran, I love you only. I won't be like him," I murmured urgently against him.  
  
He sighed and I felt his shaking fingers run over my back. "I know you won't," he whispered back to me. "That's why I-... why I-."  
  
I knew what he wanted to say, and what held him back. Kissing him again I poured my heart out into him. He moaned and whimpered as I kissed him deeply, taking charge for a few moments. When the kiss ended I whispered against the shell of his ear, "Say it, Ran. Go ahead. I heard you say it earlier. It doesn't matter now."  
  
He choked and then took my face in his hands, pushing me back so that he could see my face. Tears were forming in his eyes and it was breaking my heart, but elating my heart at the same time. Closing his eyes he bit his lip and then whispered, so softly I could barely hear, "That's why I love you."  
  
"Oh, Ran," I whispered, unable to stop myself as I wrapped my arms around him and drew our bodies together, our lips meeting again in a fevered moment of love and acceptance. The heat spread though my body until it felt like my skin was burning. Everywhere his fingers touched me he left a trail of tingling fire until they came to grasp my hips, his nails urgently biting into my flesh. He pulled at me as he moaned into my mouth, sweetening the kiss with his neediness. As I braced myself above him I felt him move beneath me, shifting and settling until I felt his knees draw up on either side of my body and realized that I was cradled between his legs.  
  
Startled, I broke the kiss and stared down at him panting, sweat beginning to dampen my hair and slide over my body. The way he looked up at me made my pulse quicken. His eyes were hooded and lust filled, soft and vulnerable. That unbelievably red hair spread out in a tousled mess around his head, fanning out on the single, white pillow. He was breathless and trembling, his usually pale skin flushed and glowing. He stared up at me dazedly, and whimpered, his breath coming out in a trembling exhale as he said my name. "Ken... take me."  
  
I froze. I stared at him fixedly, my breath shallow and quick. His eyes fluttered closed and he lay beneath me waiting for something. "Wha-what?" I breathed, suddenly afraid.  
  
He wrapped his arms around my neck and pulled himself against me, kissing my face and nipping my ear before whispering, "Please. Make love to me. I want to be yours."  
  
My heart beat so fast that I could hardly stand it. All along Ran had been the aggressor; he had pursued me, made himself dominant. I wasn't sure what to do. I had never expected to see him so submissive to me, never expected to hear him ask me to be in control.  
  
But as he lay back again I felt him arch his back beneath me, his hips rising impatiently, and I felt the burning heat of his most private entrance against my growing manhood. But still I hesitated; still I trembled above him, shaking in uncertainty and insecurity.  
  
He moaned and then lay back, his eyes opening as I refused to move. He looked up at me, sweet confusion clouding his clear eyes, and moaned softly as he reached up to touch my face. "Ken? What's wrong?" he breathed, shifting under me again.  
  
I closed my eyes and bit my lip as I felt his warmth move against me again. "I... I can't," I breathed.  
  
He blinked up at me and then furrowed his brows. "Ken, it's ok. It's not like I haven't done this before. Don't worry, it's not my first time," he said softly, running his hand over my face.  
  
I realized then that in all likelihood it had been Yuushi who was the dominant lover in his relation with Ran, or at least that he and Ran had been more equal as lovers than Kase and I had. I didn't understand why I hadn't seen it before, I should have grasped it from what he told me earlier. Both of them so forceful and yet so needy.  
  
I took a trembling breath, and then locked eyes with my lover. "I... it's my first time... like this." I wasn't sure if I should be embarrassed or ashamed, but I felt my face grow hotter as I looked down into his steady, blue gaze.  
  
He seemed momentarily confused and then his eyes widened just slightly. "With Kase you never..."  
  
I shook my head, closing my eyes. "Never."  
  
He was silent for a moment, and I kept my eyes closed until I felt his hand on my cheek again. I sighed, leaning into the touch and slowly let my eyes open, still afraid to look at him. "I'm sorry, Ran. I don't think I can do this now... I don't... I won't know how to make it good for you."  
  
"Ken. H-how could being with you be anything but good?" he asked softly, stoking my cheek with his thumb.  
  
I leaned farther into his touch, closing my eyes again and kissing the palm of his hand as I turned my head. "I don't want to hurt you," I murmured, "I -know- how painful it can be, and I... if this is the only time we get to be together I don't want it to be like that."  
  
I felt Ran's finger brush the matted hair from my eyes and then trail shakily down to my neck. "Hidaka, look at me," he called softly. "Hidaka."  
  
And so I did. We looked deeply into each other for a few moments, nothing hidden, nothing held back. Then he leaned up and, taking my face in his hands, kissed me with his eyes open, kept me looking into him even when I thought the intensity of it would overwhelm me. I felt tears forming in my eyes again, and I choked slightly as he kissed me.  
  
When he pulled away he smiled at me softly. "If this is the only time we can be together, then nothing could ever be worse than not being with you. Take me, Ken, please. Make this complete. You can't hurt me, not when I want you this much."  
  
Again his hands moved over and down my body, causing the heat to rekindle in my flesh. His hands tugged at my hips and he arched up against me once more, his eyes still locked with mine until he closed them, moaning softly in his desire. I let instinct and his hands guide me as the tip of my manhood found the puckered entrance of his anus. I wasn't even inside him yet, but I could feel the pulsing heat of his body and it made me feel lightheaded. A soft moan was issued from my throat as he pressed back against me. I meditated on his beautiful face as it became awash in pleasure and impatience. I thought then that as long as it had been for me, it had been longer for Ran.  
  
I let his hands tell me how much was too much and how much was enough as I began to shift my hips forward, pressing in past the tight mouth. He groaned and arched his back after only a few moments and I was amazed that I could hold such power over him. I closed my eyes, pushing farther, feeling myself become enveloped in indescribable, delectable warmth. As I pressed farther I felt as if I passed some threshold within him and he arched his back again, crying out wordlessly, tossing his head, red hair shifting against the white of the pillow. I didn't know if I had hurt him so I stopped, panting heavily, my teeth grit against the sensual torture of being within him.  
  
"Are you ok?" I asked hoarsely.  
  
His body trembled beneath me as he panted softly and then groaned, "Oh God, you feel so good. Don't stop, please... don't stop."  
  
Seeing him spread out before me, begging me to take him made me so hot I could barely stand it. As if being buried within his beautiful body wasn't enough, now I had to contend with his words as well. I didn't want to end this prematurely, but he was making it so hard.  
  
Clutching the bed sheet in my fists I pushed still farther forward, still unable to comprehend how ungodly good it felt. It was as if there was nothing between us, as if we were of the same skin, so fully did I seem to merge with him. I could no longer hold back the moans that were building in my chest, and as I felt my hips finally contact the firmness of his body I released the sound in an agonized rush.  
  
"I can't feel half as good as you do," I breathed. I paused only for a moment then, waiting for some sign from him to continue. The raising of his hips was all I needed. Rocking forward I sought to find that place within him, hoping that I could find that buried place that he had found so deep within me. I wasn't disappointed. He threw his head back, gasping audibly as I brushed against his prostate, sending shoots of erotic pleasure coursing not only through him, but through me as well as he tensed around me, constricting his already tight muscles around the engorged flesh of my cock. I found a gasp of my own answering his as he slowly loosened around me and lay back.  
  
Now his hands tugged once again at my hips and I let him lead me into a dangerous dance of push and pull. Every stroke within his body drove me further and further towards climaxing. My cries mingled with his to create the most beautiful music I had ever heard, the most beautiful music I will ever hear. Eventually his grip on my hips loosened as his fingers slid against my sweat coated skin. Then they fell limply to the bed, no longer able to hold on, able only to clutch loosely at the bed sheet as he left me to continue the rhythm we had begun on my own. Every time his hips met mine I knew I touched that place inside of him.  
  
"Oh, fuck... Ran, I-I can't stand it!" I cried as I plunged into his hot, willing body. My whole being shook, and I could barely support myself above him any longer.  
  
"Then let go," he breathed, clamping his muscles down around me, pulling me farther and farther into himself, and I pushed forward for the last time, climaxing, filling him with my essence, practically screaming with the unbidden, unbridled pleasure that he gave to me.  
  
And he caught me in his weak, trembling arms as I collapsed against him, pulling myself from his body. I lay panting against his chest, shaking still with the force of my orgasm. His hands traveled tentatively over my body, trailing over my sweat slick skin. God how I loved him. I thought my heart would burst from what he made me feel. I had enough will to pull myself up and find his lips once again. We kissed like crazed fools, moaning and crying, taking each other with a passion that was completely unhindered. As we pulled apart our tongues lingered, and he suddenly reached up, pulling me back into a full kiss. I knew then that no matter how much of each other we recieved it could never be enough.  
  
Then I felt him raise his hips against me, seeking to find friction and release against my body. I pulled back and kissed his eyes. "I'm sorry, I couldn't hold out for you."  
  
He smiled as he arched against me again, "It's alright. I wasn't exactly helping."  
  
"No," I said, furrowing my brows, still panting from our last kiss, "you weren't."  
  
I began to pull back, intent on sliding down his body and finishing things for him the way he had done for me that day in the schoolroom. But his hands stopped me suddenly and he shook his head, creasing his brow. I leaned over him again and looked down into his flushed face, once more finding myself lost in him.  
  
"Don't," he murmured. "I want to stay in your eyes." He kissed me tenderly and then pulled away, lying back.  
  
"But what about..." I trailed off.  
  
Once again he raised his hips against me, one of his hands sliding down my arm. "Just touch me," he murmured.  
  
Shifting I slipped one of my hands between us, groping blindly against his warm, slick body until I found the shaft of his hardened manhood. His eyes fluttered shut as my exploratory fingers moved over the soft skin of his cock, already slick with precum.  
  
"More..." he breathed, raising his hips, pushing into my hand.  
  
I chuckled as I watched his exquisite features twist and move at my touch. I don't know how long I tortured him, or perhaps it was he who allowed himself to be tortured, but when he came, thick strands of his cum being expelled into my hand and over his abdomen, he cried out, calling my name with such force that it seemed as if he had waited an eternity only to say that one word.  
  
Again in the afterglow we lay together, ignoring the stickiness and the slickness of our bodies as we cuddled together in the slowly darkening room. Neither of us meant to but we both drifted off, seduced into slumber by the safety we felt in the other's arms.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
Tears are falling from my eyes now, but I pretend that they aren't there. Why? Why did I make myself relive that time? It was so beautiful, and now so painful. The sound of his voice in my ear, the feel of his skin, unlike the skin of any other person on the earth, against my fingertips. Flawless. He had been nothing but perfect to me, and now he was gone. Nowhere to be found. Nowhere.  
  
I push off the ground with my feet and let myself swing back and forth for a few moments. His face still swims before my eyes, the texture of his hair can be felt in my fingers.  
  
Finally I brush angrily at my eyes and sigh, one long quavering breath that feels like it will never end. When it does I force myself to stand up, trying to push the thoughts of him out of my mind, but I know that it's useless now. I passed the point of no return.  
  
But regardless of that I have to make my way home. I wonder if Mary has already called the house to check on me. Shaking my head and jamming my hands into my pocket I take off down the slope and back towards the path. The sky looks like it might try to clear, but I know there isn't any point in holding my breath about it. Rain is as regular here as the aching of my heart.  
  
I can feel my hands beginning to shake inside my pockets, and the sharp edge of a headache is beginning to make itself known. I realize, as I walk along, that I missed my afternoon dosage. Stupid of me. I always keep one bottle of my pills at the store, but I didn't think to take any of them with me when I left, since at that time I thought I was going home. I grumble in agitation as I imagine the medication in my mind. I realize how far away home is and quicken my step, even though as I do I can feel my muscles beginning to cramp on me. I hate this! I hate it. Why do I have to be so weak? If he could see me now... hell for all I know he -does- see me now.  
  
He'd be so angry. The thought makes me smile. But somehow I think that if he was here it wouldn't be so hard to stop taking my meds. I could do it, I would to it, if it would bring him back to me. Are you listening God?  
  
Heh... didn't think so.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
When I woke up I found my back curled against Ran's torso. One of his arms was draped lazily over my side and I could feel his warm breath against the back of my neck. Something was different and it took me a moment to figure out what it was. The room was completely dark. Startled, I realized the darkness' implications and twisted around in Ran's embrace.  
  
"Ran!" I cried, reaching back to shake him. He made no response, just went on sleeping. "Ran! Oi, Fujimiya!" I barked, "Wake up!"  
  
This time I punched his arm and then started to get out of bed. Grumbling he rolled over and started to stretch. "Ow, what the hell was that for, Hidaka?"  
  
"Would you look outside, what time is it?!" I cried, fishing around in the dark for my clothes.  
  
"Fuck," he murmured and then got up with me. He moved around purposefully and then suddenly there was a flare of light and I saw him standing there holding his lighter up to his wrist. He looked at me, rolled his eyes and then flicked the lighter shut again. "It's past nine. Almost two hours past. We've been asleep for almost four hours. Fuck."  
  
I sat back down on the bed and stared at him, my mouth hanging open. "We missed the pick up?"  
  
I saw his faint outline nod and then watched as he came back to the bed and crawled up behind me, lying down again. "It would appear so."  
  
"What the hell are we going to do?!" I cried. "When don't come back... what if they all know?!"  
  
"They won't know. We'll radio them tomorrow and say we had a mix up on where we were being picked up. It's not a big deal. Besides even if it was there's nothing we can do now, so just come back here and lie down. We might was well enjoy the time while we can."  
  
"Ran! It's not that simple I mean... what about Kudou?! We have a missio- ."  
  
"Fuck Kudou!" Ran snapped from behind me.  
  
I caught my breath as a sudden thought came to me and then said, "You didn't, did you?"  
  
"Didn't what?"  
  
"Fuck Kudou."  
  
"What?! No I did not fuck Kudou! Eww. He's slept with half the prostitutes in Vietnam, why would I want to fuck Kudou?"  
  
"He has a fiancée did you know that?" I said softly.  
  
"What? What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Nothing I suppose."  
  
Suddenly there was a tentative knock on the door. "Is Willy Ng. Want to make sure that it's all ok. You stay tonight, hm? You ok?"  
  
"We're fine, fuck off!" Ran shouted.  
  
"Ah, so so. Ok." Shuffling feet could be heard retreating from the door.  
  
I turned my eyes on what I could make out of Ran in the darkness. He looked back at me and our eyes, seeming to glow, found each other and we started to giggle.  
  
"Oh, we are so screwed," I moaned, as I leaned back to lay down again. I found Ran's arms waiting for me and nestled myself inside of them, allowing him to pull me against his warm body.  
  
"It doesn't matter now. Just forget about it, and enjoy it while you can," he murmured, kissing my hair. "And why would you think that I'd fucked Kudou?"  
  
I sighed. "I don't know. I didn't really think so, but then I still don't understand why he wasn't surprised when he walked in on us in his quarters that time. And what he said to you. What did he mean, how did he already know about you?"  
  
Ran sighed and pulled me closer. "Kudou was one of the commanding officers, not my crew chief, but the crew chief of another AHC, where I was stationed with Yuushi. I guess it's pretty safe to say that Yuushi had almost no sense of discretion and no fear of being caught. I can't even tell you the number of times we were almost walked in on after he'd cornered me somewhere on base or in the hangar. Not that he wanted to do anything... you know, but he had no shame as far as making out went. Of course it was bound to happen, and it did, someone did catch us. You can probably guess who."  
  
"Lieutenant Kudou," I said flatly.  
  
I felt him nod and then he continued. "He just kinda stood there for a few moments and then realized what was going on. He looked like he was going to make a break for it, but before he could Yuushi grabbed him and slammed him against the wall. I remember what Yuushi said to him. He said, 'If you so much as breathe a word of this to one soul I will rip off your dick and shove it up your own ass before we are shipped home.' Yuushi had balls the size watermelons I swear. For a soldier to get into an officer's face like that, to threaten him... But afterwards I was scared shitless anyway that Kudou was going to tell. I went to talk to him myself. I don't really remember what I said to him, but I guess whatever it was must have worked, because he never told any of the other officials. But after that Yuushi was a little more careful about where he ambushed me. Over time, and especially right after Yuushi's death I guess I found Kudou to be someone I could trust. It was as if since he already knew my one big secret I didn't have to be afraid to show him more of myself. And eventually he stopped trying to resist our tentative 'friendship.' I never thought I'd see him again after I was transferred and then, what do you know, I end up here serving under him with you. I think he's getting tired of covering up my dirty laundry."  
  
"He's probably wondering why he gets all the homos," I giggled.  
  
"Probably."  
  
Ran stroked my back and kissed my forehead. "I really do love you, Ken."  
  
"I'm so happy," I whispered against him.  
  
"Can I make love to you again?"  
  
"Not like we have anything else to do," I chuckled, moving against him, kissing his neck. A few moments later I was on my back again, receiving him with all my heart. We made love that night again and again. We made love until the bedding was wet with sweat and cum and neither of us could move. We made love like we'd never make love again. Good thing too.  
  
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Gah! Even my beta'er said it was cheese! *goes to find katana with which to commit seppuku* Oh well, not like I care. You got more smut and enjoy it while you can cause it'll be the last of it. I think... Bah, not even I know where this is going anymore... er... no wait, -of course- I know where this is going. Yeeees. *looks around* You wouldn't think it would be so hard would you? Well anyway, review if you value your life and updates. *waves* Jya!  
  
Look it's so shiney. go ahead Push it. 


	16. Sunset Sunrise

Disclaimer: *bleep*  
  
Comments: You know... I always wonder if anybody actually reads my comments. I mean if they do I must really seem like some cracked out weirdo. _;; Oh well. Well here you go, the next installment of Sweet Hell. I dun know what you guys are expecting; there was much angstitude in the reviews. "Make a happy ending, Marty! Make a happy ending, Marty!" "Marty, stop being cryptic!" "Don't kill Ran!" Yeah yeah, you guys are silly. *evil laughter!!* How's that for cryptic? Well, I had a lot of fun writing this chapter because I could finally start writing plot again! It was nice. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did. Although... I have a feeling that I'll end up being chewed out several times if the comments of my beta'er are anything to go by. *snickers* Again with the cryptic, ne? Enjoy. R&R please!!  
  
Gah! My roommate has returned!! *runs and hides* Mmmm. cheez-its. (I almost wrote "Cheez-tits".. *snickers*)  
  
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I don't remember what time it was when we woke up the next morning. I do remember being very reluctant to get up, due more to the fact that no matter which way I turned something jarred or twinged than the fact that I wanted to stay in Ran's arms. Of course there was that too, but... it was really the not moving part that I was most concerned with. But eventually we both managed to pull ourselves apart and get moving. With thoughtful touches and good humored encouragement we coaxed each other out of bed and did the best we could to clean each other's bodies with the water provided by the door. We used Ran's shirt to wipe away the remnants of our love making.  
  
For some reason after that night of endless, unhindered passion we were both strangely tentative and awkwardly bashful. I felt his skin shiver under my fingers as I touched his body and felt my own cheeks flush as his gentle hands moved over mine slowly. Our eyes met again and again, lingering for a moment before hastily turning away, frightened by implications of what we found in each other. Teasing, playful words were murmured back and forth in the stillness of that morning, and sweet whispers were uttered into burning ears. The intimacy of that moment was startlingly different from that of the night before, but no less potent.  
  
It took quite a bit of willpower on both of our parts not to simply fall back on the bed and make love again. Not that either of us were particularly in any shape to do so.  
  
My lips were so bruised that even the gentlest of kisses from him made me wince. Even so I tilted my face up to meet his again and again as we slowly dressed ourselves. Like I said before, I could never get enough.  
  
Finally we were clothed. Ran left his under shirt, too filthy to even consider salvaging, in the jumble of equally dirty sheets on the bed. As he buttoned up his shirt I couldn't help but meditate on how flawless his exposed collar bone was. Tracing my finger along the hard ridge I pulled him against the wall, grinning foolishly.  
  
"Kiss me again. One more time before we go," I murmured.  
  
He smiled and shook his head, bending down, taking my lips with his, covering them and kissing me so long and so deep that even the pain was forgotten with the rushing in my ears.  
  
After that kiss I followed him out the door, leaving the room that had been our own private heaven, and walked stiffly down the stairs. Ran left another twenty on the bar as we passed and then wordlessly exited Willy Ng's. Leaving it I had a strange feeling, and glancing over my shoulder I realized that in all of Nam this place would be the one that meant the most to me. Here I had experienced my greatest sorrow and my greatest joy. This was the place I had lost Omi and the place where I shared myself with the man I loved. I will always have mixed feelings about Willy Ng's: American Style Bar.  
  
We didn't talk as we made our way down the muddy streets, past villagers on bicycles wearing broad straw hats, past the open market, and finally out of the village itself, heading back towards the school room. It felt good to be walking around. My body felt strange and cramped, not surprising considering the abuse I'd put it through the night before. I watched Ran as he lit a cigarette, snapping his lighter open and then closed with the flick of his wrist. He smoked, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. I wondered what he was thinking about, but didn't really feel like asking. Besides, I already had a pretty good idea. He was thinking the same things I was.  
  
After Ran radioed Pang Nuan and gave them some half-assed, crap excuse about waiting at the wrong pick up spot we waited around in the chilly, cement-floored room for ten o'clock to roll around. That was when the next transport was coming into the village. We were to wait at the school house, no ifs, ands or buts. So we waited.  
  
I'm not sure if we talked at all, I don't really remember. I think we were both lost in our memories of the night before and our trepidation of the night to come.  
  
At some point the rain began to pour again. Sheets fell against the side of the tiny box room in which Ran and I sat, hugging ourselves against the dampness in the air. By the time we heard the blast of the Jeep horn I had silently watched Ran smoke a third of his pack of cigarettes. I knew that shit wasn't good for him, but I also knew I was in no position to preach about what was or wasn't good for anybody. Slipping my hand into my pocket I could feel the cool, smooth cylinder of pills under my fingers. Thinking about it then I thought it strange that Ran hadn't discovered them. But then again neither of us was paying any attention to things like that by the time we were undressing each other.  
  
I had been startled when I felt his hands fall onto my shoulders. Jumping slightly I looked up to meet his eyes and found a blankness there I hadn't seen for a very long time. For some reason it was as if he was already beginning to block himself off, to steel himself against the possible. I didn't like that. He seemed distant and unobtainable, so different from how he had been that morning. My heart clenched tightly.  
  
"Ran?" I asked softly, trying to see beyond the haziness in his indigo eyes.  
  
"Shhh," he hissed quietly and then kissed me full on the lips, a long, lingering kiss. His lips felt cold and for the first time I could taste more smoke than sweetness.  
  
Then he took my hand and pulled me up from the desk where I had been perched. After that he let go and walked across the cement floor, his boots scuffing on the dirty surface, and out into the rain.  
  
I stood for a few moments and looked at his receding back. I waited until he was already halfway up the hill and then I followed. I felt sick to my stomach. He had placed a seed of pain and worry deep within me, and I couldn't shake it. It wasn't that he wanted to be cold. I knew that he wasn't trying to push me away or hold me at bay; it was just that Ran knew only too well that this next mission might be the end. He was preparing himself, putting up the walls as a precaution. But I knew that no matter how many walls either of us put up now, it wasn't going to make any difference if something happened to one of us on this mission. In the end the result would be the same. It just didn't matter.  
  
The ride back to base was made in silence. The driver didn't even seem to notice that Ran had lost his undershirt somewhere along the way. When we reached base Kudou was waiting beneath the eaves of the transport garage. He looked pissed.  
  
"You two, come with me," he said in a voice that was deceptively calm. "Thanks for going to get them, Fraser."  
  
"No problem, sir."  
  
Neither Ran nor I said anything as the three of us hustled through the rain towards the officer's quarters. Kudou was slamming doors open and shut by the time we got there, and I was totally unprepared for what was to come. As soon as we entered his office he whirled on us, water spraying from the ends of his hair. We were all soaking wet.  
  
"What the fuck do you think you were doing?!" he screamed.  
  
"We missed the transport, sir," Ran said calmly.  
  
"I already fucking know that, Fujimiya! And don't think your little excuse has me fooled for one second. I know you, Ran, and this is unacceptable! I have covered your ass enough times, I have looked the other way in good faith, but this is too fucking much! If you want to screw your little boyfriends you do it on your own time, ass-hole!"  
  
Ran stood there, unblinking, staring into space. I didn't know what to do, so I did the same, only I stared at the ground.  
  
"You have a mission in less than forty-eight hours! That's right, while you two were out playing house the mission was bumped up a day, you're going out tomorrow at dusk. And you two pull a stunt like this. I can't fucking believe it! I can not believe it, Ran. I mean... shit just look at you! Where the hell is your shirt?! I can be in a lot of shit for this! I can be court marshaled, you idiot, it isn't just your two asses on the line here, pardon the pun!"  
  
"Youji it isn't that big of a deal. No harm done," Ran said calmly, quietly.  
  
"Shut the fuck up, Fujimiya. Did I say you could talk yet? No!" Here the Lieutenant paused, pacing agitatedly before us, biting his thumbnail, shaking his head. "I can't do this, Ran. I can't cover up your dirty laundry anymore. Last time I could turn my head the other way, because neither you nor your ass-hole lover were my problem. You weren't serving under me then, so I could let it slide. But this is different. I am -responsible- for the actions and behavior of -both- of you! If you had wanted to take a leave day and go off and do your dirty deeds in silence that would have been one thing. But to take off while on duty and take -my- time and screw each other with it is absolutely unacceptable. I am your commanding officer and I can't just pretend that this isn't happening!"  
  
With that he fell silent again and glared at both of us, his eyes burning as he seethed for a few moments. Then he walked behind his desk and rummaged around in his drawer until he found a cigarette and lit it. I raised my eyes to watch him take one long drag, hold it in, and then slowly sit back into his chair as he exhaled.  
  
"I don't need this," he said as if talking to himself. "I don't. I have enough problems. First the whole scene with you two and Schu and Farf, and then that Gook kid, and then the bombing, and Swanny, and then Crawford, and now this! Are you trying to flaunt it in my face?! Could you be anymore obnoxious about it, Ran? Could you?! I mean... it isn't that I don't understand... ok, well maybe I don't -exactly- understand, but I can at least relate in some way. I don't know how I can just overlook this."  
  
Ran crossed his arms and glared at Kudou. "Just do. Fuck, Kudou, it's never going to happen again, and it's not as if anyone else even has the tiniest inkling."  
  
Kudou looked up, blowing smoke at Ran. "You know that's not true, -private- . You know as well as I do that your friend and mine, Mr. Max Wolff, and his crony have a pretty good idea about what's going on. In fact... I think Schuldich actually -knows- about you and Yuushi. So don't give me that 'ignorance is bliss' crap. And you," he snapped, turning his eyes on me, "what do you have to say for yourself?"  
  
I was startled by Kudou's sudden address. I looked at him and caught my breath, pausing as I thought of something to say. My lips moved around a few words and then I finally spoke. "I won't make any excuses, sir. I don't regret what we've done. This mission may be fatal-," here Kudou cut me off, looking like he might turn green.  
  
"Oh Jesus, shut up! You're going to make me ill," he mumbled and then looked down at his desk. After a moment he grumbled in frustration and ran his hands through his water-darkened hair. "Look... I don't care what the fuck you two do when you get out of here. Go back to the States and be happy homos for the rest of your lives -I don't give a fuck-. But as long as you are here, serving under me, I do not want to hear it, see it, smell it, or be reminded of it in any way, shape or form ever again. Do you understand me? Because if I do I will have your asses shipped home so fast it will make your heads spin! I'm serious. Never again!"  
  
"Yes, sir," Ran and I answered in dull tandem.  
  
"Good. Now get the fuck out of my office and prepare for the mission before I change my mind and have you both court marshaled."  
  
Ran's hands were balled into fists as we walked across the base towards the barracks. No one even gave us a second glance much to my relief. After that encounter with Kudou I found myself shaken and worried, my breath coming shorter than I would have liked. Inside my pocket my hand curled around the smooth surface of a glass bottle.  
  
"I'm going to the head," I said lamely, peeling off from Ran, not waiting for a response.  
  
I shut the door behind me and found myself practically gasping for breath. It felt like everything was watching me as if everything had eyes. Groping my way to one of the sinks I wrestled rather frantically with the lid of my medication bottle, pouring pills indiscriminately out into my hand and then downing at least four. Cupping my hand beneath the running tap I chased the pills with rusty, unclean water and then splashed it over my face, spluttering, hoping the coldness would clear my head.  
  
I could feel the drugs beginning to settle in my bloodstream, slowing my breath, calming my pulse. My eyes fluttered shut and I let myself lean back against the wall, sinking to the floor between the sinks, my head resting against the wall.  
  
I didn't hear the door open. I didn't hear boots scuffing across the cement floor. I didn't hear anything until I heard that voice. "Rough night, Hidaka?" There was an undeniable smirk in that voice, a sneer, and it made my stomach turn.  
  
Opening my eyes I looked dazedly upwards and locked with a pair of steel blue eyes. "Fuck off, Max," I hissed.  
  
He chuckled, tossing his orange hair cockily. "You'd probably enjoy that wouldn't you? Sorry, Kenken, I don't play for your team."  
  
I just glared at him, hoping all my hate was reaching him in that stare. "Bastard."  
  
At this he snickered. "Now why are you getting all nasty with me? I'm only having a bit of fun, Hidaka. No worries, my friend. Now here," he said, extending his hand towards me, "get up off that disgusting floor and come back to the barracks with me."  
  
I looked at his hand warily and then back up at his face, questioning his motives. "Just take my hand, wanker."  
  
Unable to think of any good reason not to, and unwilling to remain on the cold floor any longer I did so. He hauled me to my feet and we stood there staring at each other for a few moments. I couldn't decipher the smirk on his lips or the light in his eyes. It was unsettling, but I didn't know why.  
  
"You've known all along, haven't you?" I asked flatly.  
  
"Yeah, about Fujimiya anyway. But that's only because I used to fly with him and Honjyou," he said, grinning wolfishly.  
  
I stared at Schuldich blankly for a moment, trying to get my mind to focus, but the pills were doing their job a little too well. "Hon... Honjyou?"  
  
Max arched a thin eyebrow and gave me a skeptical look. For some reason there seemed to be the slightest bit of concern, but I couldn't think why there would be. "Don't tell me that he hasn't told you about Yuushi Honjyou."  
  
"Oh, Yuushi, no I've always known about him. I guess I just never knew his last name," I answered quietly.  
  
Schu grinned and ruffled my hair. "That's good. I'd hate to think that Ran was keeping things from you." He let the comment hang in the air. "I really liked that guy. He was a trouble maker just like me. One night he and I got drunk off our asses, and he told me -all- about his 'relationship' with our good friend Ran Fujimiya. It's a damn shame he went section eight at the end. You should have seen that chopper plow into the earth."  
  
I could do nothing but stare at him blankly. How could he talk so emptily about the death of a man he thought of as a friend?  
  
"So, yeah, to answer your question I've got you and Ran all figure out. But no worries, Hidaka, I like you so," at this he leaned closer until his lips were barely millimeters from my ear, I could feel his hot breath on my skin and I didn't like it, "my lips are sealed."  
  
He snickered again as he pulled away, giving me a wink as he turned, flipped his hair once more and then made a beeline for the door. Not knowing how I should react or whether or not I should believe him I simply followed him out.  
  
When we got back to the barracks Schuldich held the door open for me for no apparent reason. At least he didn't ruffle my hair. Ran was standing at the end of the bunk with his toiletries pouch. I could see Farf grinning at him from the end of his bunk, he and Ran seemed to be having a staring contest.  
  
"Taking a shower, Fujimiya? You probably need one. You and Hidaka here both, huh?" Schuldich called past my shoulder. I saw Ran's lip curl just slightly.  
  
"It is a messy business, that," Jei intoned deviously and then chuckled in that eerily husky voice of his. "Don't you agree, Nippies?"  
  
"Oh, we're being collectivized now?" I snapped as I got to my bunk.  
  
Farf shifted his odd yellow eyes to me and grinned a bit more broadly. "And why not? You seem to be sharing everything else."  
  
I wasn't going to play their little game or be baited so I just grit my teeth and turned away. Ran, thankfully, did the same. Strange, I remembered then how he had clocked Farfarello on the very first day I'd been in Pang Nuan. I wondered if he'd really changed all that much, or if things just weren't that simple anymore.  
  
"I'm going to take a shower," Ran grated, turning away and heading down the isle. "I suggest you do the same," he called back to me.  
  
At this Schuldich nodded and came to lean near me against the bunk. "I think that's a good idea. But not at the same time."  
  
"Yeah, might make things awkward for the other would be bathers," Farf piped up.  
  
I glared hard at each of them in turn and then went to lie on my bed. "I'll keep that in mind."  
  
Eventually I did go to take a shower. It felt better than any shower I'd ever taken. I stood under the hot water and just let it pour over me, washing away all the dirt and grime and whatever else clung to my skin. It soothed my weariness and calmed my frayed nerves, wave after wave of liquid warmth caressing my skin.  
  
I didn't see Ran for the rest of the day. I don't know where he went, but wherever he was it wasn't with me. I slept the rest of the day away, bothering only to get up to attend evening mess. I didn't see Ran there either. I was already in my bunk waiting for lockdown, when I heard him come down the isle and quickly undress before swinging into the bunk above me. I lay there in the darkness hoping he would come to me, that he would hold me if only for a few minutes.  
  
It was well into the early morning when he did finally swing down. I had already succumbed to sleep, a painful bitterness filling my heart as I drifted off without the comfort of his arms or even a softly spoke word of endearment. So when he woke me, gently touching my shoulder and shaking me I almost cried out in alarm. But my rising breath was stilled as I felt his soft, cool fingers fall over my lips. I could barely make him out as I lay there on my back, searching for his face in the darkness. No words were spoken as I felt his lips tentatively descend upon mine and linger briefly before pulling away again. And then he was gone, swung back up into his own bunk.  
  
The next day seemed to drag on forever. Those of us flying the mission, Jei, Max, Ran, myself and the two co's who had been assigned the day Ran and I spent in Sang Cho-na, Mitchell and Brick, weren't required to attend the regular scheduled training. I guess they thought we could better pass the day in 'mental preparation' or something. Once again all day long Ran was distant and aloof, keeping to himself, reading quietly in his bunk or out of my sight completely.  
  
As the day wore on I found myself growing more and more anxious. Within my heart there grew an increasingly urgent longing to see Ran. Just once more I wanted to talk to him, to hear his words of comfort and affection before we had to become nothing more than a pilot and gunner and fly off into what might be our deaths. But by the time I made up my mind to talk to him despite his obvious avoidance of me, he was no longer in his bunk. In fact he was nowhere.  
  
It seemed fitting somehow that I walked all over the base looking for him. It gave me time to look the place over and conjure my memories. I stopped in the infirmary to pass a few words with the on duty nurses. It wasn't Manx and Ms. Birman, but it really didn't matter that much. They let go back into the recovery room and I stood for a few minutes at the end of the bed where Omi had once lain. My mind filled with the remembrance of our talks there, it was strange. so strange.  
  
"Hey, kid," I murmured under my breath. "I miss you, you know that? But everything is different now, I wonder what you'd think. Heh. Anyway, wish me luck, ok?" I let my hand tighten around the steel post at the foot of the bed and then wandered back out into the daylight.  
  
Eventually I found myself skirting the outside of the wreck building, heading out onto the training field. It was empty in the early afternoon; the soldiers were all engaged in other, more entertaining undertakings.  
  
I didn't realize where I was heading at first until I realized that I'd come out on the far end of the field, just behind the pile of discarded beams on which I had sat and talked with Youji Kudou my very first evening in Pang Nuan. I don't know why, but somehow it didn't surprise me that I came upon him again.  
  
He was sitting, facing out over the field. From the little trail of thin, silvery smoke drifting up over his head I knew he was smoking. I paused and then began to turn to leave, not wanting to face Kudou, not knowing what either he or I would say to each other. His anger from the previous day was still fresh in my mind. His voice stopped me.  
  
"Oi, Hidaka. Don't skulk around, come join me for a smoke," he called softly.  
  
Turning back I answered, "I don't smoke, sir."  
  
He had chuckled and bobbed his head. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Good for you, this shit will kill you. Heh. Well then, sit with me while I smoke. I want to talk to you anyway."  
  
I wasn't sure if I should feel apprehensive or relieved. I had thought of Kudou as a friend for a long time, and I didn't want to leave things with him the way they were. Yet I feared that there would only be more reproach. Regardless I walked over to the pile of beams and hoisted myself up beside him. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and then took a long drag, holding the smoke in his lungs before exhaling in a soft rush.  
  
"You know, Hidaka, I really like you. I've liked you since the first day you got here," he said absently. "I don't want you to think that that's changed because of what I said yesterday. What you do with your own time is your business, private. But what you do with my time is my business, do you know what I mean?"  
  
I'd nodded and said nothing. I was beginning to resent being scolded like a child.  
  
Youji waved his hand in the air, his cigarette leaving a smoke trail. "You know, it isn't that I really feel like I have any right to talk, but I just want you to hear me out on this. What you and Ran are getting yourselves involved in is just going to be trouble to everyone. To you and to him especially. There are enough opportunities for you to get screwed over here, and bringing something like that into the equation is setting yourself up for a whole lot of heartache and trouble. I know. I was there when Yuushi died, I saw what happened to Ran, and everyday I kicked myself for not doing something about it, for not putting an end to things when I could have. I'm saying this for your own good. From now on don't fuck around with Ran Fujimiya. Just let him go. Let him go, let him off easy before losing you the hard way destroys him. Tell him you don't feel for him, or that this isn't what you want, make it easy for him to lose you if he has to. If you both survive and when the war is over you two want to play house for the rest of your lives, fine, whatever. But here, now, just let it go. Just forget about it, Ken. It's for the best."  
  
I was silent for a few moments and then turned to look at him. "How can I forget about it, sir? How can I live with him and lie to him. You told me that if I ever fell in love that I shouldn't do anything to fuck it up, because if I did then I would be fucking up everything in my life for eternity. Well I've found love, sir, and I won't fuck it up by lying to Ran now."  
  
The Lieutenant gave me a long look, his green eyes searching mine until he grew weary of searching. Then he shook his head and chuckled. "You always listen to the ramblings of drunken, love-sick fools?"  
  
"When I know they're right, yes."  
  
At this he snorted and took another drag. "Alright, Hidaka. Suit yourself. I can't stop you from doing what you feel is right, but I stand by what I said earlier. If I even get the tinniest inkling of this again I will have you discharged and court marshaled."  
  
"I understand that, sir."  
  
Sighing he reached over and ruffled my hair. "Good. Now go get some rest, you've got a lot of flying to do tonight."  
  
I slept away the late afternoon, trying to store up what little energy I could for the mission.  
  
As dusk began to fall I was awoken by rough shaking.  
  
"C'mon, Hidaka, let's go. We're supposed to meet at hangar four right about now," I blurrily heard Schuldich say as he shook me awake.  
  
"Ok, ok," I snapped, batting at his hand. Farf was leaning against the end of the bunk, looking at me with a smirk on his face. Ran was still nowhere to be seen. Grabbing my jacket I followed Schu and Farf out of the barracks and across the base.  
  
"I imagine the others are waiting at the hangar already," Schu said blandly, looking at me over his shoulder. I raised my tired, empty eyes to meet his and he grinned at me and winked one blue eye. "Don't look so down, Hidaka. This is going to be fun."  
  
I gave a little smile and then went back to staring at the ground. I wasn't sure what I was feeling. I wasn't really afraid anymore, it was as if I had accepted whatever might happen. There was a kind certainty within my soul that something was going to happen, and I found that I could do nothing but accept it and get on with things.  
  
Sure enough Ran, Mitchell, and Brick were waiting for us in the hangar. Ran didn't even make eye contact with me. He was leaning against the side of one of the Iroquois, his arms crossed across his chest, a cigarette hanging between his lips, a thin trail of smoke lazily streaming into the sky. Kudou and Botan were also there, standing close together, talking about whatever it is commanding officers talk about.  
  
As soon as we were all assembled, Kudou and Botan made their way over to us and gave us another quick briefing. Our birds were already loaded and waiting for us on the landing field. All we had to do was suit up and get going. We were given the coordinates of the unit we were taking supplies to and sent off with salutes and handshakes. All in all it felt pretty grim. That mission lacked all the adrenaline and excitement of all my other outs. There were no men running to and fro, no shouts or jokes being passed, no nurses hovering at the edge of the field waiting to see us off, and take care of us when we got back. It was just us and the officers. Just us, our choppers, and the coming darkness.  
  
As I watched Mitchell settle into the seat next to me, adjusting his headgear and popping his neck, I heard Kudou call out to us. "I want you boys all back in one piece, you hear me? Don't do anything stupid, just get in and get out!"  
  
None of us answered, there really wasn't any point. I glanced over my shoulder and caught Ran's eye. He was hunkered down at the edge of the hold door, one leg sticking out over the side as he hugged the gun. I gave him a weak smile, and to my joy he gave me one in return. But then as we were given the go signal, I tore my eyes away and started the blades to whirling.  
  
I still remember how the base looked as we raised up over it that night. Everything was quiet and dark. Off on the horizon the very last slivers of the sun could be seen as it set over the jungle. Brilliant pink streaks shot across the sky, and the light dazzled on the waters of the Mekong where it could be seen off in the distance. Never had I seen the jungle look so beautiful. The air was still and the rain had stopped. It seemed as if everything shone in the waning light, and as I followed Schuldich's lead out of the base I knew that the stinging in my eyes was not caused by the brightness of the setting sun.  
  
We flew on, following the river inland, as the skies grew darker. I had never really flown at night before, and I'll tell you right now it was terrifying. We had to maintain almost complete radio silence the farther inland we flew. I relied on my ears to tell me where Schuldich's chopper was. We had to fly pretty low, keeping above the river which at least reflected the moon's light. At least it did until the skies clouded over again and then the rain began to fall. Then we had to fly so slowly it was almost painful. We crept along the top of the canopy and skimmed the water of the river, tying to keep our bearings as the rain obscured the windshield and was blown into the hold by the wind. The little tizzy fit of a storm managed to slow us down so much that we didn't leave the river until two hour after we'd planned. We were in danger of it being light again by turnaround.  
  
Amazingly enough we made it over the last stretch of occupied VC jungle without incident. I noted that Ran was looking a little bored as we pulled up higher so as to stay as far out of range as we could of any would-be Vietnamese heroes. When we reached the approximate coordinates tentative lights began to flash in signal below the canopy. We knew it was safe to turn on the search lights. Sudden, bright white light flooded down from the nose of our two choppers, illuminating the jungle so much that it hurt my eyes. A large clearing had been made in the dense foliage and we could see men waving their arms at us from there.  
  
I gave the sky one last glance off to the East as we began to descend into the jungle. I felt my stomach sink as I detected the tell tale lightening of the sky. We weren't going to be afforded the protection of darkness on the way back home.  
  
As we touched down, the wind from the chopper blades whipping through the trees and blowing up a small amount of dust from the trampled jungle floor, men rushed forward to greet us. Cheers and hands were extended as the men crowded around. I crawled out of the cockpit, exchanging a nervous glance with Mitchell and went to stand by Fujimiya in the hold.  
  
They were wretched. Utterly wretched. The men who cheered for us had good reason to do so. Gaunt, skinny arms reached out of loose fitting, tattered fatigues. Not a single one of them was clean or well shaven. Dark circles ringed their eyes, and there was a certain manic, desperation hidden beneath the surface of every single one of them. You always heard about the men who went AWOL despite all the dangers involved and the possible ramifications of being caught, and you had to wonder why. But looking at these men I understood perfectly.  
  
Over the next half an hour we helped the members of that rag tag unit of Green Berets unload both choppers and get the supply crates neatly stacked. Mosquitoes buzzed and whined around my head, I felt as if they might drive me to insanity. I imagined that these men lived like this all the time, day in and day out. There was no leave time, no dry barracks, no hope it seemed.  
  
Strangely I found my thoughts drifting to Omi for the first time in weeks. I remembered that day, my first out when we had been over run by his battered platoon. I could still remember how helpless and lost I had felt as they swarmed into the chopper hold, hauling each other up, their wretched, ragged forms scrambling for safety. Had they lived like this in the jungle? Day to day living in dirty tents, eaten alive by insects, and in constant fear and anticipation of enemy attack? Of course they had. Before we had rescued him this had been Omi's life. Only in my mind it seemed infinitely worse for him, dragging himself in and out of those tiny tunnels, lost in the endless, winding dark. I shuddered at the thought and looked around again at the strained, weary faces of the soldiers. How I wanted to take them all away from that place. I wanted to take them all back to base and to end their miserable existence in that rotting hellhole.  
  
When everything was unloaded we were formally greeted by the commander of the platoon. He was an older, hardened soldier and his handshake was firm and warm.  
  
"We can't even begin to tell you boys how much we appreciate this," he said, grunting. "Why don't you let me get you a cup of coffee or something, you've got a long flight back to base. Come and sit in my tent for a minute."  
  
"We'd love to, sir," I said, casting my eyes to the sky, "but the sun is already practically up. If we don't get going we won't have any darkness to fly in."  
  
The man shrugged and chuckled. "What difference does it make? Whether you leave now or in half an hour it's still going to be light. Might was well enjoy a cup of joe.. God knows it may be your last."  
  
The six of us exchanged glances and it was silently understood that he was right. We accepted his offer and followed him to his tent. It was really nothing more than a large tarp stretched between trees. A high table was set in the middle, piles of damp, molding papers and maps were strew about the surface, pencils and a compass completing the image. The officer lit a small oil stove and started to boil a pot full of what was probably collected rain water. Within five minutes we had our coffee, brewed through a crude filter and strong enough to down an elephant, but we were happy for it.  
  
Not a whole lot was said as we stood quietly beneath the tarp. The officer would occasionally make a comment about how things were going, or ask about life on the base. All in all we felt pretty dismal. I don't even remember his name now. We left our coffee cups sitting atop and mildewing papers when we were done and headed back to the choppers. A few of the platoon's soldiers were leaning against the big machines talking. They had been waiting to thank us personally, giving us slaps on the back and good- humored comments.  
  
It's all such a blur in my mind now. I don't remember any specific faces, just the sense of desperation that hung in the air.  
  
The blades whirled and within minutes we were lifting back out of the jungle. This time I caught the sunrise. Off to the east the sun crept from beneath the lip of the horizon, and even though I knew it portended badly for us, I could not help but be moved by the beauty once again. The pale, yellow and pink light spread slowly through the sky, staining the clouds with colors of weak fire.  
  
We flew high over the canopy, one chopper flying a few thousand feet higher than the other. This way there was always one chopper which would draw the fire and another that could hopefully escape if we fell under fire. We switched back and forth, and I could tell that Ran was getting tense as his eyes skimmed the trees below for danger.  
  
I didn't like the way he was hanging out of the hold, and I was about to tell him so when I heard the first distant crack and the first dull, metallic twanging sound that told me we'd been hit.  
  
"Shit!" Ran cried, pulling himself back into the hold. "I can't see them," he growled, crouching behind the gun. He rattled off several rounds into the dense, foliage, but he was just shooting in the dark.  
  
We were flying low, drawing the first away from Schu and Farf. I opened the radio channel to them, "Schu do you copy?"  
  
"Copy, Hidaka. What's your status? Was that a shot?"  
  
"Roger, we've been hit, but..." Just then my speech of reassurance was cut short. I could hear a trail of shots go off in rapid succession, dull twanging thuds cutting along the bottom of the hull. I heard Ran cry out in alarm and it was all I could do to keep myself from letting go of the stick and running to him.  
  
"Fuck, Ken!" he yelled, "Pull up!"  
  
"I can't! If I do the fire will be drawn to both choppers!" I screamed back. "What the fuck are you doing? Cover us!"  
  
"I'm trying," he grated, shooting more rounds off into the endless expanse, "but they're all in fucking blinds or something! They must have been expecting our return since last night, they must have heard us go over!"  
  
"Shit!" I hissed, checking the instruments for any signs of damage, so far everything seemed to be ok. Pulling hard on the stick I began to swerve through the sky, hoping that the erratic movement would throw off the VC gunners below us. Mitchell had his face pressed against the side window, attempting to scan the jungle.  
  
"Hidaka?! Are you guys ok?" It was Schuldich crackling over the radio.  
  
"Yes, just keep flying!" I shouted back and then cut the radio. I didn't need Schuldich distracting me. My heart was racing. All I could hear was the sound as it thudded in my chest, keeping a strange cadence with the whacking of the blades. Rounds kept going off and I could no longer tell if they were coming from us or from the jungle.  
  
Again and again I heard the tell tale pinging of metal and I knew we were being struck. It was only a matter of time before the Vietcong got lucky and hit a fuel tank or one of the rotors. If that happened it was going to be bad ju-ju all over.  
  
I heard Ran swear again and then another echoing series of rapid fire shots go off somewhere in the jungle. A spray of bullets penetrated the right side of the cockpit, shattering the window Mitchell was peering through. Glass sprayed through the cockpit, breaking inward in a roar of angry sound. I jerked, dodging imaginary bullets in my mind. Mitchell screamed, reeling back from the window, clutching his face. A smatter of blood had landed across the instruments, deep red shining in the growing light. Mitchell moaned and hunched over in his seat. As I hazarded a glance at him my stomach turned as I saw blood seeping between his fingers, drops collecting and falling to the cockpit floor.  
  
My hands began to shake and lock on the controls. I didn't want this to be happening. We started to loose altitude, the nose sagging towards the earth. I couldn't stop staring at Mitchell. I couldn't stop hearing his cries and moans even though my ears were already full of gunfire and roaring.  
  
"Ken?! What the fuck are you doing?! We're dropping!" Ran screamed at me from the hold. "Pull us up, god damn it!"  
  
My head turned slightly towards him, but my eyes stayed fixed on Mitchell. Nothing was processing. "Ran I..."  
  
"Shut up and fly!" he screamed. "God damn it, Ken, do not freeze on me! Do -not- pull a Yuushi, you bastard!"  
  
I'm not sure if it was his words or the violent jolt that rocked the Bell that brought me out of my daze. A shell had exploded next to us, and by the smoke that suddenly started to fill the hold and the rapidly falling fuel gauge, it was obvious that the shrapnel had punctured one of the fuel tanks. My heart raced as we lurched and rolled, wallowing in the sky like a fat boat. I hauled at the stick, pulling back using as much willpower as anything else to make that bird fly higher.  
  
But it didn't work, we just kept dipping, there wasn't enough power left to get her to go higher. And just then as the river came in sight again two more shells went off, one ripping through the tail of the chopper, tearing off the rear rotor and other exploding just off her nose. Already near blind from the fuel tank's smoke, choking and spluttering I once again took to the stick, trying with all my might to regain some amount of control. It was useless. The tail was falling rapidly, dragging the nose up and I knew then that we were in serious danger of flipping over. There is nothing more horrible than an upside down helicopter.  
  
But the only way to keep the nose from flipping up was to point it down, and that was taking us on a direct route to through the jungle canopy.  
  
My eyes were burning from all the smoke, and the world both within and without the helicopter was nothing but haziness, broken only by the occasional patch of clarity. Oh the horrible rending and screeching I heard when we hit the canopy. Everything was breaking, or so it seemed. The noise that filled my ears, nothing but a dull roar, the echoing of my own blood as it sped through my veins, quickened with adrenaline. The whole world shook. Oddly the only thing I could think about was being inside a snow dome.  
  
Shaken shaken shaken, falling so fast.  
  
I don't even really remember the impact. It just came so suddenly. There was all this noise and motion and then suddenly everything turned to chaos. Then it was dark and quiet. Oh so quiet. I think I blacked out. That's the only explanation I can give really.  
  
When I lifted my head, my ears still ringing from the intensity of the cacophony and the endlessness of the silence, I could only wonder at the fact that I was still alive. My head felt like it had been split in two. A warm stinging filled my eyes, and my vision seemed coated with a filmy redness. Distantly I realized that there was blood running into my eyes, and I reached up tentatively to touch my forehead. As soon as I did painful, bright white light exploded in my head and I cried out, but the force of my voice only made if more painful.  
  
When I moved I knew something wasn't right. Pain shot through my chest and I tried to figure out why. My mind just didn't want to work. It kept whispering to me to sleep but I knew I couldn't. So I sat there, and forced myself to stay awake until my mind began to clear. I hummed to myself softly, every once in a while wiping the blood away from my eyes. I wondered how long I had been bleeding... how much blood had I lost?  
  
And then suddenly everything snapped into focus with such force it was almost more painful than the gash on my forehead.  
  
The chopper had landed, tipped onto one side. The right side. I was suspended in my seat, held in place only by my seat belts. Touching my collarbone I realized that it was the source of the pain in my chest. It had snapped with the force of the impact as the belts restrained me. Turning my head I looked over where the right side of the cockpit was crumpled against the earth. Mitchell was a ragdoll mess. His limbs were bent at odd angles, blood covered that side of the cockpit and the very sight made me want to wretch. Still I thought I detected some small movement.  
  
And then I remembered. Ran.  
  
Holy shit, Ran! He had been in the hold with no restraints. My hands moved of their own accord, clawing at the fastening of my seat belt. My breath came in frantic whimpers as I slowly became more and more frantic. I couldn't get out! I couldn't get out, oh god!!  
  
And then suddenly the belt was free, and there was nothing to hold me in. I semi tumbled out of my seat, pain slicing through my body as I was jarred against the edge of the co seat. And in my quest to steady myself my hand brushed against Mitchell's mangled body.  
  
It croaked. It croaked and his face turned towards me, it was nothing more than a mass of blood and torn flesh. I remembered the sight of his blood dripping from between his fingers as he held his face in his hands. Oh my God... oh my god.  
  
"Hidaka..." it burbled, the sound of his voice slick and sickening with blood. It grated and slid, but I couldn't tell where his mouth was. "Get me... please, out... out..."  
  
I pulled away in terror and disgust. I was so afraid, and not a little ashamed of my actions. But never had I seen anything so terrifying. Even the sight of Omi as he slid apart in the arms of the men who carried him away had been more tolerable than this broken thing that had once been a man.  
  
I screamed, pulling back and started to cry. "I... I can't. God, Mitchell.. I'm sorry, I can't. Ran!" I cried turning away and trying to scramble into the tipped hold. I had to get to him, I had to make sure he was ok. Stumbling and sobbing I hauled myself into the hold, ignoring the pain from my collar bone and splitting fire that spread through my brain. "Ran!" I cried again. Why didn't he answer me?  
  
The hold too was tilted and I found myself sliding towards the right wall, my boots slick with what I supposed was probably Mitchell's blood. In my desperation to stop my slide I reached out to steady myself, blindly groping for the first thing I could find. When my hand wrapped around the cold, smooth metal shaft I started, turning my head as I realized what it was. The broken off shaft of the machine gun mount that was anchored into the floor.  
  
I felt my breath hitch in fear, know that it could only mean one thing. The machine gun had snapped off at the impact. If Ran had been holding onto it to steady himself...  
  
My eyes darted around, adjusting to the dim light that filtered in through the open doorway, searching the gloom for my lover. And I found him. My gut twisted and I heard myself cry out in despair.  
  
In the crash he and the gun, as it broke off, had been slammed against the right wall of the hold. The amount of force adequate to break the mount had rammed him against the unforgiving steel of the hull, and then sent the gun after him, slamming it into his chest. I could see him there now, pinned beneath the weight of the massive gun, unmoving, a trickle of blood running from his lips down his perfect, white skin. The left arm of his jacket was also stained with blood and I realized than that he had been shot while we were still in the air.  
  
"Ran!" I screamed letting go of the mount's shaft and half scrambled half tumbled to where he lay pressed against the far wall. Beneath my breath I chanted a little mantra.  
  
Don't be wasted, Ran; oh God don't be wasted.  
  
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Afterthoughts: OK! Before you bitch me out and start threatening my person I would like you to know that Lilas already did it for you see:  
  
"*stares*.... You BITCH!!!!! How DARE you stop there!!!!!!!!!! That is the WORST Cliffhanger EVER!!!! Holy SHIT! *gapes* I can't believe you stopped there. It almost makes me want to NOT give you this edit version just as a punishment!!! Besides, there weren't that many mistakes. Oh man. You evil evil person!!!! *pouts*"  
  
Those are her endearing, heartfelt comments of joy! *huggles Lilas* I love you -too-! *giggles* So if you think that covers all the ranting you'd like to do, then be content. And if not well then go ahead and rant to your heart's content. But whether it is to rant or not I -strongly- encourage you to hit that magical little button labeled "Go". Yep the one next to the "leave a review" scroll down. C'mon, you know you wanna. And if you don't much smiting and PAIN will ensue!! You guys do want to know if Ran's wasted or not, riiiiight? *evil smile* Ja ne.  
  
Oh, and a post, post comment. Fei and I are working on a collab, wheee!! I've never collabed with anyone before, but it's kinda fun. and kinda confusing. Anyway it's not up yet, but it will be soon, at least the first chapter. It's called "Ink", and will be under Fei's account. Well something to look forward to. OH MY GOD THE BLATANT SELF PROMOTION OVERWHELMS!!! RUN AWAY WHILE YOU STILL CAN, BEFORE MY EGO TAKES OVER!!! Ok, bye now. 


	17. Stronger

Disclaimer: If I had a hammer... I'd hammer in the morning... I'd hammer in the evening... all over this laaaaand. And then I would hammer in the heads of the guys who own this stuff and steal it from them. Which would most likely make everyone but me very angry.. Hmmmm, actually I think that's a bad plan. Anyway I don't own it regardless of what I would do with a hammer. So enjoy anyway and know that I make no profit from this except the ever expanding girth of my ego. MUWAHAHAHAHA!!  
  
Comments: MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!! (To those that celebrate it anyway. ^_^) Sorry this took so long and that you all had to suffer with the cliffhanger, but I had finals week and then had to travel across the country and stuff, so it too two weeks. I would like to say that never in my life have I consecutively been called an evil bitch by so many. It made me feel warm and fuzzy, thanks guys I LOVE YOU TOO!!! No actually I do, because calling me an evil bitch means you care, and it's the thought that counts, right? Errr. or something. Anyway so here it is the follow up. So now you will all know whether or not I wasted Ran. I got mixed opinions from the people who actually deem me worthy of talking to online. Got a couple "I know you killed him, I know you did, you evil evil evil wench!!" but mostly teary-eyed pleading. MUWAHAHAHAHA!! Does your pleading pay off?? Read and find out. Now... would I -really- kill Ran?? Well the answer to that is actually yes, I really would, be whether I really -did- or not is the question. And you know what most of you probably aren't reading this anyway, because you all wanted to know what happened right away that you just couldn't take five seconds to read my comments! NOOOO!! Read and Review or else I will cause you all much PAIN!!!  
  
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The beating of my heart, an endless cadence. I can hear it in my chest now as I walk along the sidewalk, making my way home. Home? Is this place my home? They say that home is where the heart is, don't they? Well I left my heart in Vietnam. I left my heart with him, wherever he went. So I guess I'll never be home again.  
  
Tears fill my eyes, but it doesn't matter. It's raining again so no one on the street can tell. Banzai heels to me of his own accord. Good dog. He takes care of me.  
  
It isn't too far now until I reach my neighborhood. Even if that house isn't my home, it's the place I can call mine. If I can keep it together for now I can get there, take a couple pills, and go back to bed. I can let sleep wash away my memories. Yet I know that won't happen. My dreams are filled with my memories. And my memories are filled with him.  
  
If I can just keep it together the rest of the way home.  
  
But the remembrance makes it so hard.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
My hand, trembling uncontrollably, darted out to touch his face. God his skin felt so cold beneath my fingers.  
  
"Ran!" I cried frantically, pulling at him, shaking him. In retrospect it probably wasn't the best thing to do. "Wake up! Oh God, please say something," I breathed, holding back my sobs.  
  
It took all the presence of mind I had left, and there wasn't much, not to sink into a debilitating panic and curl up against the wall. But I knew that doing so wasn't going to help Ran... if he was still within the realm of help.  
  
Cradling my head in my hands I pulled back from him and forced myself to breath evenly, trying to calm myself. As soon as I looked up and saw him again, saw him, my beautiful lover, so broken before me, my efforts were almost wasted. But I had to be strong. I had to keep it together, for him.  
  
Forcing my hands to be steady I reached out, fear twisting my guts, as I placed my fingers on his neck, below his jaw, searching for that sign of life. Cold flesh against my fingertips as I waited, fearing, dreading what I would feel. Stillness. I felt my breath hitch as stillness met my fingertips, I stared unbelieving at his empty face, and found myself pressing my fingers harder, deeper into his skin.  
  
Still I waited, willing something to be there.  
  
And then suddenly there was. A thread of life pulsed against my fingertips. Faint, hesitant, but undeniable. Ran was alive, but barely. I could already tell he wasn't breathing. His chest was still beneath the weight of the mounted machine gun.  
  
I hadn't known I was holding my breath until I let it out in one great, painful rush, coughing as I found my lungs burning.  
  
And then I was in frantic motion, desperate to free my love from his prison. To this day I have no idea how I managed to pull that gun off of him in the condition I was in. Weak from blood loss, shock, and fear, I could feel my broken collar bone grating and shifting within my body, causing a kind of pain that I can never begin to describe. Yet still I did. My hands were bloodied by my own frantic movements, but I felt no pain more than what I already knew.  
  
When the gun was hauled to the side I could see plainly for the first time the condition he was in. Something looked wrong. One side of his rib cage seemed crumpled, concave almost. Broken ribs... shattered ribs. That's why he wasn't breathing; his lung was most likely punctured.  
  
I had to get him out of the chopper. The overheated engine kept making whining, popping sounds, and I knew that if the fuel tank had been hit the possibility of a fire starting, or even of the chopper spontaneously exploding was high.  
  
Again I found a strength within myself that was beyond my condition, and pulled him from the wall, turning him, taking him under the arms. Half of me was loathe to move him, not knowing what further damage I could be doing. Yet at the same time I knew I couldn't leave him in the helicopter. I dragged him laboriously across the hold and to the lip of the open door. Here I encountered a problem and a short moment of panic as I tried to figure out how to get him to the ground.  
  
In the end I think I was too tired and weak to carry him, and I remember vaguely both of our bodies slumping to the charred jungle floor as I tried to ease him down on my shoulder. But much of my struggles with Ran that day are lost on me.  
  
What I remember next was laying him back against the damp earth several yards from the emaciated UH-1. My whole body was shaking with pain, fatigue, and the suppressed urge to breakdown. I struggled so hard to keep my mind under control as I arranged his limp body on the ground. Seeing him lying there like that, devoid of life almost killed me. I kept remembering him as he lay before me only two days before, full of life and passion and love. His skin so wonderfully flushed with my touch and trembling just slightly in anticipation of our lovemaking.  
  
And now he seemed so empty. So cold. I couldn't let it end like this. I had to get him breathing again.  
  
"Ran..." I whispered, seeking his pulse again, waiting with held breath once more until it flittered ever so distantly against my finger tips. How long had he been unconscious? How long had he not been breathing?  
  
There wasn't anymore time regardless.  
  
Leaning over him I took his head in my hands, and tilted it back, opening his throat. I opened his mouth, wincing as more blood dribbled from the corner as I did so and then closed my eyes, covering his open mouth with my own, breathing my life into him. Silently I begged for him to accept my breath. Again and again I pulled away to breath and then cover his mouth, seeking to bring him back from the edge.  
  
Tears filled my eyes as his body refused to respond to me and I began to curse and cry under my breath.  
  
"Please, Ran. Please, please, don't do this to me. I can't lose you like this. It should be me... aren't I supposed to be the one to die?!" I cried as I pulled back again and then with one last effort covered his mouth.  
  
His response came so suddenly, and was so unexpected, that I was completely unprepared. His body spasmed beneath mine as his lungs suddenly sought to fill themselves, sucking the breath out of my body and then spasmed again, his whole body jerking as his breath met with the pooling blood in his lungs. His body's defenses took over, his body wracking with a gagging cough.  
  
His blood filled my mouth. It spewed forth, into my body with such force that I could feel it seek to run down the back of my throat. Gagging in horror and disgust I pulled away, clutching my stomach, retching onto the earth, unable to control myself. My tearing eyes watched as the contents of my stomach, nothing more really than a cup of coffee and the burning bile were expelled from my mouth, stained with his blood, a red thread dangling from my lips as I spit and heaved until there was nothing more to get rid of.  
  
The force of my vomiting sent my chest into a fit of agony with each heave, but there was nothing I could do about it until it subsided. Even so, no matter how bad it was for me, it was a hundred times worse for Ran.  
  
When I turned back to him, frantic to keep him awake and with me he was twisted onto his side, he was still hacking up his own blood. With every cough his body shuddered in anguish, and I could only imagine the terrible things that the force of his cough was doing to his crushed ribs and torn lung.  
  
"Ran!" I cried hoarsely, dragging myself up behind him, holding him, supporting him while he struggled to breathe.  
  
Lost, tortured cries found their way past his lips as tears of pain and strain filled the corners of his eyes and eventually ran down the sides of his pale face.  
  
Then finally as I held him the coughing ceased. A mess of dark, sick blood was spread out before him and his body trembled in exhaustion. I pulled him back so that he could rest against my lap. Pain glazed, distant eyes looked up at me as he struggled to take one ragged, wet breath. I winced each time his breathed hitched in pain before continuing.  
  
Should I have let him die?  
  
"It... it hurts," he said weakly, his voice breaking and cracking strangely.  
  
"I know, I'm sorry," I whispered.  
  
"W-what..?"  
  
"We crashed, Ran. I'm so sorry. I-I got us shot down. The gun pinned you. I think your ribs are broken, and your lung must be punctured. Oh God, Ran..." I moaned, more tears coming from my eyes, "I'm so sorry. I couldn't leave you there knowing you were still alive."  
  
His eyes seemed to fade in and out of focus as he looked up at me, once again struggling to find his breath. His eyebrows twitched downward and he closed his eyes momentarily. "Mitchell?"  
  
My eyes flew open wide and I turned back towards the helicopter. Mitchell! Oh God! I'd left him. He, too, had still been alive, and I had left him! I had to get him out of the chopper. I couldn't leave him in there, not after I had saved Ran.  
  
"He's still in the chopper," I said hastily, beginning to lay Ran down against the earth again. "I have to get him. Don't move. I'll be right back!"  
  
As I struggled to my feet I heard him say something in that odd voice I barely recognized as his. Turning back around wearily I looked down at him. "What?"  
  
"Med kit. Get... the med kit."  
  
Nodding, I gave him one more longing glanced and then hobbled back towards the chopper. Once again I somehow managed to pull myself inside and then to the cockpit.  
  
"Mitchell?! I've come for you, man!" I called as I came up on the co seat. It seemed to me that even more blood was smeared on the floor, and I came up short. Mitchell had tried to pull himself out from between the seats, but hadn't managed it. It was obvious that he was dead, the smell of blood and fear and death filled my nostrils and made we want to wretch again, but there was nothing left to throw up.  
  
Mitchell was dead. He was dead now when he had been alive only a few minutes before. No it had been longer than that. It only seemed like a few minutes because I had been so charged up on adrenaline. In reality I had no idea how long it had taken me to get Ran out of the chopper and breathing again. It could have been mere minutes, it could have been a lifetime. Either way, Mitchell was dead, dead and broken when I could have had the chance to save him. In all likelihood nothing could have saved Mitchell, but even that knowledge, that logic, couldn't stop the growing guilt and sadness in my heart.  
  
Why did these things keep happening to me?!  
  
Still I knew I couldn't fall apart. I had to stay with it not only for myself, but for Ran as well. I had to take care of him and make sure we both got out of there in one piece. I needed to find the med kit... and the radio.  
  
For what seemed like hours I scrambled around in the hold of my crashed bird gathering up anything I could find that might be useful. MREs, survival blankets, the crash kit, the emergency radio, the med kit, and the rifles stored in the crates against the far wall. All the while, as I hurried two and fro, I was tortured by two thoughts. I had to get back to Ran, and Mitchell was watching me. I couldn't keep my eyes from continuously snapping up to fixate on the visible part of his corpse. My irrational mind kept telling me things I won't repeat here, because then you'll think I'd gone section eight. Heh... then again, maybe I did. I don't really know.  
  
Weighted down with all of the supplies I'd found in the chopper I made my way back to where Ran was lying on the jungle floor. I dropped my burdens with a groan and returned to his side, reaching out to gently touch his face.  
  
"Ran? I'm back," I called softly. His eyes were shut peacefully and I thought for a moment that pain relieving sleep had found him. And then I realized he wasn't breathing again. Shock was trying to claim him. His body was trying to shut itself down to save his mind from the pain. Don't let anyone ever tell you that pain never killed anyone.  
  
"Fujimiya!" I screamed this time, "You bastard, don't you dare die on me, not after I vomited up your blood, you ass-hole!"  
  
His heart had not yet begun to slow significantly, and so I administered mouth to mouth once again. This time I was ready for his reaction and pulled away, avoiding a mouthful of stagnant blood that wasn't even mine.  
  
I held him in my arms as his body shook and shuddered with the shock of being drug back into life for the second time in less than half an hour. Ran coughed up a little more blood, but nothing compared to his first fit. I did my best to soothe him as he began to come to his senses again, grasping his surroundings and all of his pain with frightening clarity. I watched, my heart torn in two, as he grit his teeth against the agony of simply being alive.  
  
I held him tightly, not wanting him to cause himself further injury as his muscles contracted instinctively against the pain, causing his body to jerk. His eyes went from being squeezed shut one moment to wide, staring up at the sky, tears leaking from the corners the next. A strange, strangled squeak caught in his throat as he took in one large gasp of air. And then his body stilled, going rigid as he fought to control his breathing, relaxing slowly, slowly until I cradled him loosely against my chest.  
  
"I'm sorry," I whispered again, fighting the tears in my eyes.  
  
I heard him take a wet, quavering breath, and then heard it released in a whimper of exhaustion. For a few long moments we stayed like that. I just wanted to hold him close to me, to feel the reassuring warmth of his living body. As long as he was alive I didn't care what kind of shape the two of us were in. It would take what I could get, if only for the moment. I tried to breathe deeply and regularly, coaxing him to follow my lead.  
  
"Breathe with me," I said, pulling him against my chest. "Please, Ran, just breathe with me."  
  
And he tried. I felt his hands grip the fabric of my pants as he struggled to overcome his pain and delirium. I don't remember what I said to him, but I know I whispered in his ear. Most likely it doesn't matter what I said, because he probably couldn't hear me anyway. But still I liked to think that my voice helped at least somewhat.  
  
After a time his breathing became semi regular, jerky, but regular. I sat breathing with him a while longer and then when he seemed in danger of drifting away again I shifted and spoke.  
  
"I'll bandage your ribs," I said quietly. "That will make you more comfortable. I hope."  
  
It took him a moment, but he did nod. Somehow I managed to get him to sit up. We had both lost so much blood that at the time everything seemed futile to the point of being hilarious. Why was I even bothering? I didn't know, I just knew that I couldn't give up and lie down to die quietly. And even if that's what Ran wanted, I couldn't let him do so either.  
  
After retrieving the med kit I gingerly began to remove his shirts. He kept his eyes closed and his teeth grit together as I did my best to be gentle. Everything was so still, there was no wind in the trees, no sound save that of the rustling of his clothes as I pulled them over his head, making sure not the hurt his arm, which had since stopped bleeding, much to my relief.  
  
When I finally removed his undershirt and was able to see his exposed torso I was both relieved and frightened. Amazingly enough none of his ribs had broken his skin from the other side. Nothing was sticking out. At the same time his ribs just looked horribly wrong. I can't explain how exactly. It was just wrong. And now I had to get down to the hard part.  
  
"Ran?"  
  
His eyes fluttered at the sound of my voice. "Hn?"  
  
"I'm going to try to reset some or your ribs. Will you be ok?"  
  
His eyes opened slowly, deep indigo reflecting nothing. So dark. "Doesn't matter. Do what you want," he grated, wincing at the effort to make his voice work.  
  
I wasn't exactly sure what that was supposed to mean, but as long as I had his permission I wasn't going to argue with him.  
  
"I love you, Ran," I said softly. "I'm sorry."  
  
He didn't say anything in response, but I didn't blame him.  
  
Slowly I let my fingers begin to work over his side. I kept my eyes moving back and forth from his ribs to his face, watching for signs of pain. Of course I knew that this was painful for him, but I didn't want to do anything that was going to injure him further. His face could tell me if I was doing so.  
  
Tenderly, gently, methodically my fingertips felt and prodded and pushed, looking for things I could start to fix, out of place fragments that yielded to my insistent pressure. I moved several of his rips into what felt to me like more natural positions, at one point halting abruptly as I heard Ran make a strange noise.  
  
I glanced up, anxious. But to my relief his face looked less grieved. The very faintest smile was painted on his pale lips and I heard his sigh. "Better."  
  
A few more uncomfortable crunching sounds and I decided it was enough. We were both panting heavily, Ran from pain, and most likely blood loss and I from tension. Keeping my hand pressed firmly against his side, wanting to keep pressure so that things stayed in place I reached awkwardly for the cloth bandages in the med kit.  
  
"Take a deep breathe, I don't want to tie this too tight," I said absently as I began to arrange the bandage so that I could wrap it around his ribs. The bandages would provide support, keeping his ribs in place and hopefully making it easier for him to breath.  
  
"I can't," he grated.  
  
I looked up, furrowing my brows. "Try."  
  
The look he gave me almost made me want to back away. Hooded eyes glared at me darkly and what I saw there made my heart clench... resentment. Did Ran resent me for putting him through this? To him it must have seemed so inviting just to lie down and give in.  
  
"Ran, don't look like that," I whispered. "I'm going to get you out of here, but you have to let me."  
  
His eyes fluttered and fell shut. He paused for a moment and then I watched his body stiffen as he suddenly took a sharp breath. His chest rose slightly and I watched his eyes squeeze shut even tighter as he fought to keep his breath in. I wrapped his ribs as quickly as I could, pulling the bandages snugly around him and finally tying them off. He made no protest, and my hands trembled as I went. When I was done I rocked back on my heels and sighed softly.  
  
"Is it better?" I asked.  
  
I heard Ran exhale haltingly, his breath hitching as he suddenly coughed again, more blood coming up and running from the corner of his mouth. He waited for a moment and then nodded once. I watched as his arm came up to clutch his middle as he sat there, staring blankly into the dirt.  
  
There was a strange buzzing sound in my ears and I didn't like it. Absently I shook my head and grumbled, touching my forehead. I had all but forgotten about the gash there and winced at the unexpectedly sharp pain that flared through my skull.  
  
"Argh!"  
  
"You're hurt..." Ran said absently, his voice soft and wavering.  
  
"Don't worry about me," I said, pulling myself closer to him, scooting around to his other side so that I could take a closer look at the wound on his arm. To my relief it was just a flesh wound, a bullet must have grazed him. "Can you hold out your arm?"  
  
He released his hold from around his body and weakly held his arm out to me, making soft grunting noises as he did so. Carefully I took his arm in my hands and then began to clean the wound with the alcohol pads from the medical kit. If it stung at all he didn't show it. What is pain compounded on more pain? Not a whole lot.  
  
When I had bandaged his arm as well I helped him lay back down and covered his body with his shirts and one of the survival blankets and then thought about my next plan of action. Somewhere in the back of my mind I kept telling myself that I should do something about the gash on my forehead. Ever wish you had listened to those voices?  
  
Every little movement I made was like swimming upstream. My limbs just didn't want to work anymore, I felt so heavy. Even so I forced myself to crawl back over Ran to where I left the long wave radio. I knew that there was no way in hell I could get it to reach base, but if they sent anyone out for us, and I had a hard time thinking Max and Jei wouldn't put up a fight for us, then they could probably get through if I left it tuned to the emergency channel.  
  
Dragging the radio unit with me I made my way back to Ran's side and then sat there, the radio propped up beside me, and wrapped myself up in the other blanket.  
  
So there we were, all busted up and bled out and most likely just waiting to die. I rocked back and forth as I sat next to Ran and babbled in a continuous string just to keep myself occupied and to keep Ran awake. I knew that no matter what I did I had to keep both of us awake. If I fell asleep then Ran would fall asleep and if Ran fell asleep he wasn't ever going to wake up again.  
  
At some point it started to rain again. We could hear the rain pounding on the canopy, which managed to keep most of the downpour from pouring on us. The rainwater would collect in the trees above and then pour down to the ground in a sudden rush.  
  
Time passed in an odd kind of way. The sound of my senseless droning became a sort of underlying theme, filling the time void with nothingness. Hours passed, the sun rose high into the sky and sometime around what must have been noon it burned off the rain clouds and the day grew hotter.  
  
The heat and the dampness didn't make things any better for us. I don't exactly remember when I first realized that the blood was attracting insects. Fat jungle flies came to muck around in the coagulating messes as they began to stink. Again and again I brushed absently at my forehead, trying to ward off flittering things that came to investigate the open wound in my skin. I wanted to move us away from there, but there was no way I could. We were both too tired, both in no shape to do much of anything but huddle miserably and wait for whatever it was we were waiting for.  
  
Never have any two beings been more wretched than Ran and I were then. Cowering within our own minds, surrounded by our own stinking blood, and those that came to feed on it.  
  
Every once in a while I would shake Ran or speak his name loudly to assure myself that he wasn't drifting off. Mostly he just lay there, staring up at the sky and struggling for breath, ignoring the things that kept touching and crawling on his skin. I wanted to brush them away, but it was too hard to move. All the muscles in my chest had gone stiff around my broken collarbone, and moving was just too painful.  
  
I kept thinking about what Jei had said to me the first time I met him about keeping my feet dry. I found myself obsessing over the fact that our feet were getting wet. "Things grow in the jungle," I murmured to myself.  
  
Thusly we spent the greater part of the day. I found it getting harder and harder to string coherent thoughts together and my mind and mouth often wandered around in circles, arguing with each other. I was becoming delirious. The gash on my forehead was infected already, a fever spreading through my body, but of course I didn't know that then. As far as I was concerned I was just tired and sick with fear and anger.  
  
I would have strange moments of brilliant clarity in which everything seemed so utterly hopeless that I simply wanted to fall over onto the wet ground and cry myself into oblivion. It really wasn't like me to worry like that, especially not about myself, but I guess it was really Ran who I was worried for. The thought of losing him, after finally finding comfort in him, finding love and acceptance and a reason to go on, was unbearable. And all he did was lie there and stare up at the canopy, breathing shallowly, painfully, wetly. Somehow I feel like even then I knew I would never have him back.  
  
"Ran?" I called softly at one point, leaning over him stiffly, my body protesting the movement. I placed my hand on his pale, pale cheek and looked down into his dark, endless eyes. "Don't go to sleep, ok? I know you want to, but you can't. Stay with me, stay with me, Ran. Don't go away."  
  
For a moment his eyes cleared and focused on mine. Then they became so dark and angry, resentful and hurt, filled with accusation and pain. His lip twitched and he seemed to want to say something, but I knew he couldn't find the breath or the energy. Then I did start to cry. My tears fell softly as I leaned over him, weeping bitterly. If I didn't lose him to his injuries I would lose him to himself.  
  
I knew he was in so much pain. I could read it in his eyes and in every slight movement of his body. Nature cried out to him to give in and rest, to let it drain away. But there I was forcing him to stay with it, to fight through his fatigue and pain. Hadn't he done as much to me once? Maybe not in quite the same way, but hadn't he refused to let me give in and give up when all I wanted to do was run from the pain? Yes, he had. And now I had to do the same.  
  
I remembered that night, the night when Ran took my pills, when he buried his cigarette in my hand to force me to give up my escape. How much I had hated him then. I remembered how I screamed and cried and resented him and his caring, wanting him to just leave me alone. I just wanted it to go away, and I didn't care what that meant. The glassy distant quality to Ran's eyes as he looked back off into the dark canopy told me that he wanted that same thing just then. He just wanted me to leave him alone... to die if need be.  
  
Through my tears I moaned softly, "I'm sorry, Ran. I'm selfish, I know, but I can't be alone here. Don't leave me alone, you're all I have."  
  
By the time the sun began to sink again, long shadows and twilight filling the space where Ran and I waited for whatever end might await us, snatches of decaying flesh could be caught on the breeze. Mitchell was doing his best to make what little life we had left as miserable as possible, and I silently cursed him for it. He was also attracting things more dangerous and curious than jungle flies. Although I was sure he had his fill of them as well. In the dimness I couldn't really see anything beyond the fallen bird, but I swore I could hear things clawing, scrabbling at the metal hull. I imagined little yellow devils dancing across the floor of the hold, gorging themselves on the bloated flesh of my fallen comrade. But the scary thing was that a part of me knew I was thinking crazy, and that scared the shit out of me.  
  
"Hidaka, what is wrong with you?" I mumbled to myself. "Don't you know there's no such thing as devils... But there have to be, this is hell... this is where the devil lives."  
  
I kept the rifles close to my side.  
  
Looking back I can only be thankful to God that I was having one of my clearer moments when I heard the radio suddenly snap into life. It gave off a terrible high-pitched screech and then started to crackle, bits and fragments of something coming over the frequency.  
  
"Downed bird, do y- *crack* m-e? Ov-r."  
  
For a few moments I was so stunned that I couldn't even begin to grasp what was suddenly talking at me. And then I understood. Leaning sideways I snatched at the radio as best my numb fingers would allow and brought it to my mouth.  
  
"I re-*snap*. This is UH-1B 52520, downed bird *crackle* read me? Over."  
  
My fingers clamped down on the com. My voice shook as I spoke, willing myself to be coherent. "This is Hidaka, I read. O-over."  
  
Silence. And then, "Holy shit. Well, I didn't expect to hear from you boys, but we're mighty glad we did. Position and status? Over."  
  
"Anoo... er, sorry, ummm... Status? I don't know. We... we crashed, I know that. My co is... uh, dead, and my gunner is... nearly dead, I think. And I... I don't know about me."  
  
Another pause. "Alrighty, you sound like you're in bad shape, son. You wanna send up a flare for us? Over."  
  
"Flare?" My mind was trying to close itself off again, little lights dancing behind my eyes.  
  
"There should be a flare gun in the crash kit. Do you have the crash kit? Over."  
  
"I... I think so. Yes, I do. Oh, thank god it isn't in the chopper I can't go in there. The devil is in there..."  
  
"Uhhh, it's alright son, send up the flare and we'll get you out of there. Just find the flare and we'll take you home. Over."  
  
Without another word I dropped the radio and scrambled stiffly, my body aching and crying, over the ground to where I had dropped the crash kit. I hadn't even looked through it yet. Shaking fingers fumbled with the lock, springing it open suddenly. I scanned the contents in the waning light and found the gun.  
  
My hands closed around it and I rocked back on my heels. I swore that I could hear chopper blades off in the distance. Distant, distant, slowly slicing through the air, tearing the sky apart. I closed my eyes and imagined the bird.  
  
"You still there, son? Jacobs, I think we lost him... shit!"  
  
I thought of everything that had happened in my life to get me to where I was at that point, broken and wretched on the floor of the Vietnam jungle, pointing a gun to the sky in hopes of salvation. I thought of Kase and Yuriko, did they miss me? Think of me? Would they know the me who survived all of this if I ever saw them again? I thought about my mother, her face streaked with tears as she learned who I truly was, or what I truly was if you asked my father. He had always been a stern man, but he had taught me the ways of our people. He taught me honor and respect, that loss of respect for oneself was worse than death, worthy of death. What was I worthy of now, father? Then I thought of Omi and his smiling face, his clear blue eyes, and how he hacked it. Hacked it only to die in my arms. Swanny, Crawford, how many others had I touched who had suffered? Thinking finally of Ran and our one, blissful night of lovemaking I pulled the trigger, making my final realization.  
  
I had broken Ran Fujimiya's curse. Broken it because my own curse was stronger.  
  
I watched the flare streak into the sky, and burst bright red, falling slowly, so slowly. It looked like Christmas.  
  
"Whoa! There you are," came the faint, broken sound of the rescue pilot's voice over the radio. I just sat and watched the falling red star.  
  
"You see, Ran," I said. "I told you I'd get you out of here."  
  
Within five minutes the rescue chopper was easing itself down through our crash path, and landing awkwardly. Men rushed towards us, lifting, carrying, supporting, hurrying. I remember crying out in pain as one of them jarred my collar bone, hastily uttering some apology.  
  
I saw them hurrying towards Ran and I called out over my shoulder, struggling against the hands that carried me forward. "Be careful with him!"  
  
I heard them mutter, and then let myself be lifted into the chopper. It was a med unit. A red cross outfitted UH-1. I knew it had to be, because as soon as I was inside I was lifted again and put on a cot. I felt a cold prick on the soft part of my arm and then heat flooded my veins, my pain waning away towards nothing. Everything became muted, dull, twilight.  
  
I saw through the haze as they lifted Ran inside and onto a cot, arranging him. "This guy's beyond critical," I heard one of them mumble.  
  
"Don't even bother with the morphine. He's beyond pain, practically wasted. We might as well just leave him here as much of a chance as he's got."  
  
"Don't you dare!" I heard my own voice and was scared by its strength and clarity. Nothing else was clear. Yet my voice worked. "I kept him alive on will alone, with all this shit you'd better not just give up on him," I growled, falling deeper into the cot.  
  
A hand on my forehead. "Don't worry, son, we won't leave your friend to die."  
  
"Yo-yokatta."  
  
And then, knowing I no longer had to be responsible for both of us, I let the morphine take me away, and blocked out the rest of the world.  
  
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Afterthoughts: Awww... see, Ran's still alive. At least for the time being. *pets Ran* I'll try to get the next chapter done soon. Since I'm on break for a whole month (whoo hoo) I should be able to get lots o' writing done. Although it won't do this story much good... since it's almost *looks around conspiratorially* -over-.  
  
Review if you know what is good for me. O.o Or something like that. 


	18. Life Goes On

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Weiss, if I did I would to naughty things to them and they wouldn't complain.  
  
Comments: Man, Marty is tired. Christmas just sapped all my energy away. Bleh. Oh well, it's over and I got some cool shiz out of the deal. (Ewww... I just took a sip of really old Pepsi...) Well, so here's the next chapter. I really wasn't sure if I liked it or hated it, but I think I like it. Lilas had her own opinion which I will share with you at the end of the chapter, although if you dun like profanity I wouldn't suggest reading it. For sure. Anyway I get to go see "The Two Towers" tonight with Caleb. *huggles Caleb* Gay boys are so fun! I kinda thought that I would answer some specific questions about stuff in the reviews, but I think I'll do that on the last chapter cause that would just make more sense. *nods* But I would like to say, for the record, that I am -female- . There seems to be a tiny bit of confusion. Got called "kun" the other day, not that you can't call a girl "kun" but it's old fashioned and usually only old people do it so... yeah. I guess the name "Marty" doesn't exactly make my femaleness apparent, but whatever. I don't really think anyone cares anyway. *shakes head* Well that's all for now. Hope you like this chapter. I pray *prays* that everyone will. So yah. Review if you love me! hehehe  
  
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My limbs felt so heavy when I woke up, everything was stiff but most of my pain was gone. I felt oddly peaceful and yet in the back of my mind an angry, niggling feeling kept plunging me into momentary states of panic. My vision fought to clear itself of the dark patches and haziness that had been induced by the morphine and my own exhaustion. Suddenly I jerked and sat up, supporting myself on one elbow, looking around nervously. As I did so my head cleared momentarily and I could make out everything around me, the deafening sound of chopper blades, the medical equipment, the medic guys, now all staring at me.  
  
Had they kept their promise? Was Ran still with me?  
  
I looked around hastily, ignoring the heavy hands I began to feel on my body, trying to push me back onto the gurney. Voices told me to relax, lay back, don't move. But they were just making it harder for me to get done what I needed to do.  
  
"Where is he?" I cried, my voice laced with panic. "Fujimiya, where is he?"  
  
"Lie down, soldier, he's right here. You're friend's right here, son," a voice said softly.  
  
Groaning softly I turned my head in the direction his hand pointed. When I saw him lying practically next to me the first thing I felt was relief and then I felt chagrin. He'd been beside me all along and I hadn't even noticed.  
  
His gurney was next to mine, bolted to the floor and he was strapped to it in case we hit a rough patch. His eyes were closed, an oxygen mask placed over his mouth. A pump was slowly doing his breathing for him, and I was glad that he had finally been allowed to escape into unconsciousness. One medic sat in the space between us, but I could reach around him easily enough. Still ignoring the hands, which had grown lighter since I'd calmed myself down, I leaned sideways and stretched my hand over the space between us to touch his motionless hand which lay at his side.  
  
"Stay with me, Ran," I said softly. And then lay down onto my side, letting my hand linger in the slight cup of his cold fingers.  
  
None of the medics seemed to think my behavior was odd, but then again in the kind of shape I was in I could probably have started spouting love poetry and they would have chalked it up to delirium.  
  
I tried to stay awake so that I could watch him, not trusting the dark void of unknown time that would come between us if I drifted off again, but in the end the rocking motion of the helicopter and the morphine's ever present influence lulled me back into dreamless nothingness.  
  
The next time I came back into wakefulness it was to the sound of hurried, shouting voices. Orders barked, information yelled back and forth, and the insistent tugging on my arm. The more the tugging went on the harder I wanted to hold onto whatever I was holding onto. Ran's hand.  
  
"Shit, I can't get him to let go!" a loud voice suddenly echoed through my head.  
  
No no, don't make me let! I don't want him to go away. I want to stay with Ran, I love him, don't you understand, I love him! If you take him away I'll die, I won't be anything anymore, I won't have a reason to go on. I shouted all of these things inside my head, I wanted to scream them at the top of my lungs but I couldn't make myself stir sufficiently, I didn't want them to know I was awake.  
  
"What the fuck are you idiots doing? Get them out of the bird, they need medical attention now!" I knew that voice. It was the Lieutenant. Kudou. "I didn't risk this retrieval just have them die because of your incompetence!"  
  
"We can't move them, sir, this guy won't let go of the other guy's hand, and he won't fucking wake up either," the medic who was still tugging on my arm spat back.  
  
"Oh Jesus," I heard Kudou mumble. He climbed up into the bird and bent over me. "Hidaka, wake up you useless bastard!"  
  
I squeezed my eyes shut farther, squinting them up against the sound of his voice. Kudou must have seen and realized I was awake because I felt his hand come to rest gently on my shoulder and then his warm breath against my ear. He spoke to me softly, softly so that no one else could hear. "Ken, listen to me. Pull yourself together. I don't know what happened out there, but you need to let him go now. If you don't Ran will die. He needs medical attention, please let go and let him get help."  
  
Tears began to make their way between the tightly closed edges of my eyelids. I wanted to pull myself into a fetal position and stay that way forever. "I want to stay with him," I whispered so softly I wasn't sure Youji could hear me.  
  
"I know you do, but you can't, Hidaka. We need to get Ran out of here, we need to get him north. If you love him, and I know you do, let him go. Let him go so that we can save his life."  
  
His words were breaking my heart because I knew they were all true. I loved Ran and holding onto him, keeping him with me was selfish. I had to let go and let him get help even if that meant going on without me. So as I uncurled my stiff fingers from around his chilled hand I let go of a sob that felt like it contained all the pain in the world. Even then as I let go of his hand somehow I felt like I wasn't just letting go for a little while, but letting go forever. Oh that last touch... so distant and so cold.  
  
"Ran..." I cried pitifully, so quietly that scarcely anyone heard. And then everything started to move. The meds, finally able to do something shooed Kudou out of the hold and then hoisted Ran and myself onto litters and then lifted us down, our bodies jostling and bumping, to the landing field below where we were passed off to other carriers.  
  
I had the last, fading presence of mind to sit up as they carried me off towards the infirmary and watched Ran's litter be spirited away in to opposite direction towards a waiting Bell UH-1H that would take him north to a larger hospital. Probably to Vung Tua or Long Binh. He never moved or stirred and I watched, resisting the hands that tried to push me back once again until they lifted him inside and I could see him no more. At that point I fell back, exhausted, sick with heartbreak, and overcome by my tears.  
  
That was the last I ever saw of Ran Fujimiya.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
My hand pauses on the gate to my yard. Banzai looks up at me curiously and gives a small, cursory bark, spurring me to swing the gate inward. I smile down at him, my tears having abated on the way home, and then reach down to ruffle the warm fur behind his ear.  
  
"Good, boy. Yeah, you look after me pretty well, don't you boy?"  
  
Banzai barks again, wagging his tail and dancing a little on his feet. With another soft smile I let the gate open and he dashes inside, running up the steps to sniff around the door. I shake my head. Weird dog.  
  
Inside I take off my jacket, hang it up on a peg inside the door and shed my shoes. Banzai goes to lie down on his bed in the living room and I make a bee line for the sink. With hands that shake just so slightly I reach for one of the plastic, amber bottles lined up against the splash guard. I down two pills, finish off the glass of water that I pour myself and then stand, leaning over the sink, staring down into the drain.  
  
Feels like my life.  
  
Calling to Banzai I make my way out of the kitchen and mount the stairs. It's odd, how still the house is. I can hear every sound it makes as it settles into its foundation, as the rain begins to fall on the roof again, as my dog skitters across the linoleum of the kitchen.  
  
At the top of the stair The Cat is waiting for me, blinking at me sleepily with a rather detached air. It's as if she wants to say, "Why are you home so early, not that care or anything." She gets up and rubs against my legs as I walk past and I take a moment to bend down and tug her tail gently. She makes a funny mewling sound and then scampers off in front of me, heading for the bedroom.  
  
I follow after, noticing absently as Banzai pads past me. In my room I change quickly, stripping off my wet clothing before yanking on a pair of sweat pants and a dingy t-shirt. Calmness, smoothness, evenness fills my mind. I'm so tired all of a sudden. Tired and empty. Maybe I will sleep without dreams for once. Maybe when I wake it will all have been a dream and I will find myself back on that jungle floor lost in my fever. Would I prefer that? I don't know. It might be worth it just to be with him, but then again, I've worked so hard to make a life despite all of my losses. I'm so weak that I have forgotten what it means to be alive. I said I would live for him and I will. Even if living for him is living without him.  
  
Crawling under my blankets, pulling them to my chin, I shiver for a few moments until my bed is warmed up. I feel The Cat pad her way across the bed and come to curl up on the pillow by my face. I blow on her fur for a moment, watching it as it swirls until I hear her grumble and watch her ears flick backwards.  
  
Chuckling I bury my face in the pillows and wait for sleep to come. As I wait I finish up with Vietnam.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
After they took Ran away I slept for three days straight. Immediately after I awoke I remembered very little about the crash or my day in the jungle. I kept asking where Ran was and I kept getting no answer. Every person I talked to just told me to 'lie back and relax'. It was hard, so hard when I was so confused, my brain and body still muddled from fever, and still fighting to get well again. Eventually the new Lieutenant Commander, Botan, came in to see me. He didn't say much that really made much sense, kind of going around in circles with thanks and apologies.  
  
When I finally got a word in and asked what had happened to Ran, what had happened to me for that matter he just kind of gave me a funny look and left. That certainly hadn't helped me. Suffice to say I didn't get any real answers until I had been in the infirmary for nearly a week and my condition was almost back to normal. Slowly over the past couple days my memory had begun to clear, but only in bits and pieces. Flashes of blood and pain, the scent of death carried on a humid breeze. I didn't like what I was remembering and it made my anticipation all the worse.  
  
The nurse came in to take off the bandages on my head, giving the healing gash there a good look. "Well, it'll leave a scar, but nothing too bad. Mostly covered by your hair anyway. You're a lucky man, soldier."  
  
"I just wish someone would tell me why I'm lucky," I'd grumbled.  
  
The nurse had given me a pitying look and then shrugged, turning away. "I'm not at liberty to say anything, soldier. Officially you never even checked into this infirmary."  
  
And that only got me more confused.  
  
So it wasn't until Kudou came to visit me that I got some answers.  
  
"Hey, Hidaka, back among the living, I see."  
  
"Where is he?" I grated stiffly.  
  
Kudou shook his head and sat down on the stool next to me, groaning. "Cut the crap, right? Heh, I guess you probably have a right to feel a little antsy."  
  
"Please, sir, don't dick around with me. I've been stuck in this bed for a week and I don't remember much about why, and what I do remember doesn't make me feel very good. Tell me what happened, where is Fujimiya?" I said, looking at him with pleading eyes.  
  
Youji shook his head. "I'm not really sure. Somewhere north of here. Vung Tao, I think, but like I said even I can't be sure. This whole mess is all hush-hush. We never even got word from the med team who lifted him if he made it to Vung alive or was allowed admittance or anything."  
  
"Why wouldn't they admit him?!" I broke in incredulously.  
  
Kudou looked up at me with dark, tired eyes, and sighed. "Remember when I told you that this mission was off the record books? Well that still stands. As far as the army's concerned this whole thing never happened. Ken Hidaka and Ran Fujimiya were never survivors of an Iroquois that was downed by Charlie on the return from a supply run, because they were never in an Iroquois that was downed by Charlie on the return from a supply run, because there never -was- a supply run. Therefore neither you nor Fujimiya exist officially in the condition you are in. Do you see what I am getting at? Even if the hospital north of here took Ran in without documentation or the clear from the up above we'll never know about it because -it never happened-. There will be no records ever to be found on either of you concerning your medical treatment after this mission."  
  
"What?! How will we know he's alright?! How will we know he's alive?" I cried.  
  
Kudou shook his head. "We won't."  
  
I had simply sat there in that bed, tubes running into my body, a machine echoing the slowly increasing beat of my heart as I realized what he was telling me. Unless Ran fully recovered and was sent back to Pang Nuan, which was highly unlikely, I would never hear from the government whether he was officially alive or not. No one would. He was dead to the unit as far as anyone was concerned.  
  
For a moment emptiness threatened to consume me until my mind found a tiny glimmer of light, a spark of hope that it clung to madly. "But that doesn't mean we won't hear from him ourselves, right? I mean if they ship him home after he recovers, he'll write to the unit, to you at least to say what happened. He wouldn't just... cease to exist like that."  
  
Something strange had passed over Youji's face and then he'd smiled, his eyes lighting up a little. "There's always that. If Ran's ok, I'm sure he'd let us know. Let you know especially. Unless he would have reason not to contact you, which I can't imagine he would."  
  
I stared at him and for a moment uncertainty flittered through my mind. I remembered his eyes, those eyes that begged me to leave him alone, that asked that I let him die. I thought of the resentment I had found there and all the pain I had put him through. The crash had been my fault after all, hadn't it? I'd let myself get distracted. I'd let him down just like Yuushi had. Did he have reason not to want to contact me? Would he just want to forget what we had shared and move on? Would his anger and resentment linger after he recovered? Would the fact that I couldn't be with him now fuel his resentment? Had I given him reason not to love me anymore?  
  
All of these thoughts chased around on each other's heels in my head until I was suddenly so exhausted that I simply fell back against my pillows and stared up at the ceiling. If I didn't lose him to the pain, I would lose him to himself. Oh God, please no, please don't make him hate me, don't take him away. If he survives, don't take him away.  
  
"Ken?" I heared Youji's voice softly call my name, and then I felt his hand on my head. "Don't let it get to you, ok? Everything will work out for the best. It's the best, Ken. Get some sleep. You did the right thing when you let him go. I promise. Get some rest."  
  
The next few weeks were so hard to endure. I waited and waited, each day going down when the supply trucks came in to check my mail, but nothing ever came. As more and more time went on my optimism began to wane and I found myself spending more and more time alone in my thoughts. Kudou told me to move on, he encouraged me to forget about the past and to look forward. I tried, but it was so hard. I loathed those last days at Pang Nuan. Even thought I was still surrounded by my comrades I always felt so alone without Ran.  
  
I spent the remainder of the wet season at Pang Nuan with the 326th AHC. For two month after that I flew missions out of the base. Somewhere inside of myself and inside of that bottle of pills I found the strength and composure to go on without Ran. I still had Max and Jei, who were oddly supportive and caring towards me for the remainder of our time together. They were among the first to be pulled out during Nixon's downsizing campaigns only one year later in 1970.  
  
Soon after that Pang Nuan was closed from active duty, having only served a little over a year. But by that time I had already been transferred to flying the Cambodian supply runs, running either strictly freight or on the odd occasion a transport mission. During that time, which in retrospect was actually the majority of my tour though I always see it as an afterthought now, I lived in conditions far worse than those at Pang Nuan. We had base camps, not bases. Our birds were lined up in cleared patched of jungle while we slept in sandbag walls covered with tarps. I always remembered to keep my feet dry.  
  
During the rest of my tour I still received letters from Max and Jei. I still keep in contact with them. Farf moved back to New York to work in the 'family business.' And if the rumors were true the Farfarello family does a mean turn in cement shoe making. Schu went back home and then moved to Texas where he met his current wife. In only three years they managed to have two children and start a booming business. Who would have ever thought that Max and cattle mixed so well?  
  
As far as Kudou went I heard from him occasionally as well. After Pang Nuan was closed down he was moved to some cushy office job pushing papers at the embassy in Saigon. He was among one of the last to evacuate the country.  
  
I spent two more years in Nam without Ran, and I never heard from him. Everyday I would wait, and every mail delivery no matter where I was I would greet eagerly. Always I had hope. Hope was all that carried me through.  
  
When I returned home in 1972 during the last major downsizing of troops I wrote my mother a letter and then moved to Northern California and slowly started falling apart. It had been so hard to come back and try to return to life. Everywhere I turned there were people protesting, protesting -me- ! Protesting the very people who had fought for them. And the more I looked at these people on TV who gathered and waved their banners and called us savages and monsters, who said war was meaningless the more I hated them. Of course it was meaningless, but what did they know of it? How many dead men had they seen or held or flown back to safety? How many of them had lost their loved ones because of the war? The war defined me, it was a part of me, it made me who I was and they were there, protesting me. I shut them out. I shut it all out.  
  
For one year after the official end of the war in seventy three I looked for Ran. I called officials, searched hospital records for Vung Tao, looked over deceased records, nothing. I even managed to track down staff members from the hospital, anybody who I thought might remember what happened to him. I got varying stories. Some people said they never even saw a man who fit Ran description around that time, others said he must have been one of the DOA or else there would have been a record, but mostly people just told me they had seen so many half dead soldiers they couldn't remember one from the other. At one point I tried to track down his sister, but for the life of me I couldn't even remember if he'd told me her name. Everything I tried left me empty handed.  
  
I still remember the day I simply stopped searching. The day I finally gave him up for dead and washed my hands clean. I had received a letter in the mail from one of the Officers who had been in charge of that last mission we had flown. It took a lot of wheedling but I finally got the name out of Kudou. The letter was short and to the point.  
  
-I regret to inform you that your inquiries into this matter must now and always go unanswered. I understand your situation. We all grieve for our brothers who are missing and lost in action. Occurrences such as these are unfortunate and regrettable, but I strongly urge you to bury this subject and refer to it no more. Further inquiries into the outcomes and occurrences of June 21st 1969 may lead to unsought for consequences.-  
  
After that I just gave up. It wasn't worth it. No one wanted me to find out what had happened to Ran. No one cared. And if Ran was still alive why hadn't he contacted me? My information was easy enough to find. My records were all still on hand. Maybe the truth was that even Ran didn't want me to find him. Or maybe he wasn't anywhere to be found. He could be dead. He could very well have been dead. It was the not knowing that slowly ate away at my soul.  
  
It was then that the dreams began in earnest. I had been having nightmares ever since Omi Tsukiyono had died in my arms, but when I finally gave up on Ran was when they truly began to plague me. That was when the anxiety attacks and flashbacks and voices set in and I stared going to see Doctor Craig. That's when I was first prescribed with things other than my pills from Nam. I'd been all through the prescription drug racket in only two years and my nerves were proof enough of it.  
  
Since then my life had slowly become what it is today, an endless, meaningless routine of drugs, deleted phone messages, and tasks. I tended to my pets and they tended to me. There were a few people, like Mary, who looked in on me, but no one I really called close. Everyone was just there, they weren't real. Nothing was real except my dreams. We were all ghosts, nothing to anchor us. So I drifted on until I came to where I was.  
  
* * * * * *  
  
I inhale warm fur. Snorting in surprise at the sudden lack of oxygen and the unexpected hair in my nose I jerk myself away and open my eyes. How pleasant. Sneezing once I yawn widely and push The Cat away from my face where she decided to settle as I slept. Blinking sleepily I raise my head off the warm pillow and peer at my clock. It's past five. I slept the entire afternoon.  
  
Deciding that I'm just too comfortable to get up I fall back onto the pillow and close my eyes again, drifting down into the warmth of it all. Everything smells like sleep. It's so nice. So soft, so quiet, so peaceful. I want to stay here forever, lost in the darkness. If only I could trade the darkness of my mind for the darkness of a curtained room.  
  
Now disturbed, The Cat yawns widely in my face and then starts to lick my cheek with its rough tongue. Tuna breath double whammy.  
  
"Get off," I grumble, pushing at the soft, furry, yielding body. I hear The Cat make a little yowling sound and then feel its needley teeth clamp down around my finger momentarily. Jerking my hand away I cry out and then sit up, grabbing The Cat and tossing her off my bed. "Bitch cat."  
  
I watch with satisfaction as she lands and then scampers away across the carpet. Banzai trots over to my side and puts his head on the edge of the bed. Smiling softly I play with his ears and then toss the covers off. My bare feet touch the carpet and I scrunch my toes around in it. I've always liked the way carpet feels on bare feet.  
  
I give the clock another glance as Banzai lays his head in my lap. Mary will be here soon. I'd better get the kitchen cleaned up if I don't want to hear about my poor living habits from her. Oh if only she knew.  
  
I chuckle acridly and scratch my dog's muzzle. Such a good boy.  
  
"Are you hungry, Banzai?" I ask, grinning at him. Sometimes it helps to know that someone depends on me.  
  
Banzai gives s low bark of agreement and then gets off his haunches, tossing his head and dancing playfully on the carpet. "Are you hungry? Who's hungry?" I say in my best facsimile of baby talk.  
  
And he's off. As soon as I stand and take a step towards the door Banzai is streaking ahead of me and I can hear him clamoring down the stairs. Oh to have the life of a dog. If only I could get that excited about dried kibble and canned meat. Actually... come to think of it I did used to get that excited about dried kibble and canned meat. Only we called it mess.  
  
Chuckling to myself I take a cursory glance in the mirror and pause. Sometimes I look and expect to see that kid I used to be. Sometimes I am startled by the young man who looks bleakly back at me from the depths of my mirrors. I guess maybe he doesn't look so different from the 19 year old boy he used to be when he left home for the shores of a hostile nation only to find and lose so much more. Maybe his hair is a little longer, his features a little sharper, less boyish now than they had been, but those things aren't the things that throw me. It's my own eyes that throw me. It's not the dark circles beneath them or the listlessness of my eyelids, always so heavy these days, it's the dullness. Did they used to look alive? Or have they always been so flat and tired? I think I can remember a time when my smile reached my eyes, but it's been a long time since that's happened.  
  
I lean a little closer to the mirror and run one hand up my forehead, pushing my dark bangs out of the way, revealing the long, thin, jagged scar that runs just below my hairline. My lips twitch perversely as I study it for a moment and then I am brought back from my reverie by the sharp, demanding sound of my dog's bark from the foot of the stairs.  
  
"Alright, alright, I'm coming! Sheesh, give me a minute," I call, letting my hair fall back into place, tearing myself away from the mirror and heading for the door.  
  
Bare feet on bare wood as I descend the stairs, the third one from the top groans beneath me as it always does and I sigh softly, taking comfort in the things that never change.  
  
From the base of the stairs Banzai and The Cat both look up at me plaintively, The Cat twining itself through the dog's dancing legs, her tail flicking back and forth impatiently.  
  
"I'm coming, I'm coming. Don't look at me like that," I grumbled as I step down from the last step hard and sachet past them.  
  
Before I fix the pets' dinner I walk past the kitchen to the wall unit where I keep the hi-fi. I just got the new ABBA album. I love the way vinyl feels in my hands. Placing the record on the turntable I flick the switch and drop the needle into the first groove, and then return to the kitchen as the first song kicks on. I tap my feet and sing along as I start to get things in order, twitching rhythmically to the beat.  
  
For a few moments I rummage around in the cupboards beneath the sink, searching for what I did with the last bag of dog food. When I finally find it I set it on the counter and gather up the pet dishes. As I go about fixing the animals dinner I notice that the message machine is blinking. I twist the knob as I pass by and listen as I go about my business in the kitchen, glad that I didn't turn the music up so loud that I can't hear over it.  
  
"Hi, Ken. This is Doctor Craig again. I know you're probably at work still, but I just thought I'd leave another message to remind you that we need to go over your charts. I'm really not sure you should be on your current dosages. Please call me and set up an appointment, I don't want to let this go until out next scheduled meeting, m'kay? M'kay. Have a good day."  
  
I roll my eyes and give my prescription pill bottle collection a guilty glance. If Doctor Craig wants to change my dosage -again- I'm going to be on a chemical roller coaster ride for at least a week. Better start hoarding what I have left if I want to weather the storm. Why can't these goddamned 'professionals' ever leave well enough alone?  
  
"Jesus," I mutter under my breath and then set the dog and cat dishes aside, going to scribble myself a note to call my doctor.  
  
As I pass the recorder I notice there's yet another message. What do all these people want from me? I twist the dial.  
  
"Hidaka! Yo, it's Max. Where the hell are you? Do you actually have a job? I thought the army fucked you up enough that you didn't have to work anymore, well whatever. I've been talking to Sherry, sexy beast that she is, and we think you should come down to the ranch for Thanksgiving or some shit this year. It really isn't good for you to be all cooped up all alone in the middle of butt-fuckin' nowhere Northern California. So either call your mother and go home or else come down here for the holidays. I'll call you back and you better not be screening your calls you ass-muncher. Only gay people screen their calls, oh wait... I guess you qualify then. Nonetheless I will be in touch. Ciao."  
  
I can't help but laugh at just the sound of Max's voice. Shaking my head I stir up Banzai's dinner and chuckle to myself. Max decided to be my official keeper it would seem. He calls me about once a month, always telling me to come stay in Texas. I've been twice in the past three years, but in a way it's just too disconcerting to see him in that light. I saw the way he played with his kids and interacted with his wife and I just kept thinking back to the ass-hole I knew who shot some poor Gook kid in the arm and broke the table at Willy Ng's. They wouldn't recognize the man I knew as Schuldich and I hardly recognized the man they knew as Max Wolff.  
  
Setting the dog's bowl on the floor by the fridge I call to The Cat and fish around for the can opener in one of the drawer. I really need to organize in here at some point. What a hassle. The Cat comes over to mewl at my feet and rub against my legs, eventually jumping up onto the counter as it hears the lid of its food can being popped off.  
  
I plop some of the wet slop into a bowl and then go to drop the can in the garbage. There's still another message.  
  
Grumbling I give the dial one last savage twist and then begin to walk away. The tape whirs and then clicks, playing forward. I listen for a few moments. Silence. Nothing but dead air space, the crackling of silence recorded, static. And then a quiet intake of breath, a hesitation, and release. Click. Dial tone. Nothing.  
  
Something about it makes my skin crawl. Something... something feels wrong. I look back at the message machine. No more messages. I walk quietly across the linoleum, my bare feet making small slapping sounds as I go. I don't know why, but I feel the undeniable impulse to play the message back. I do so.  
  
Again silence. A breath and then nothing. Most likely just a wrong number. Some guy calling for Judy or Greg or something only to get the message machine of a stranger. But then why the hesitation? Why the breath?  
  
In the back ground I hear "SOS" come on the hi-fi system. God I hate this song. It makes me feel too much. It speaks too many words that belong to me. But I don't want to go and change it.  
  
"Whatever happened to our love? I wish I understood. It used to be so nice it used to be so good. So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me, SOS. The love you gave me, nothing else can save me, SOS. When you're gone how can I even try to go on? When you're gone though I try how can I carry on?"  
  
Feeling perturbed I shove it out of my mind and turn towards the sink. I need a glass of water. What I really need is a pill, but I can't get myself all drugged up before Mary gets here. Speaking of which, Jesus, where is she? It's almost six. She usually gets off by around five thirty. I hope she gets here soon, I'm getting hungry. I don't want to be alone here in this house any longer. Why do I feel so anxious all of a sudden?  
  
The weight of the glass feels good in my hands and just as I turn on the tap I hear the knock at my door that means Mary is here. I sigh in relief, relief about what I don't know. I'm just glad someone else is here. Watching the glass fill up with clear liquid I smile to myself and pause. I keep waiting to hear the door open, Mary knows she doesn't really even have to knock.  
  
But instead the knock comes again, a little more hesitant this time.  
  
I furrow my eyebrows and shake my head. Maybe she's afraid I'm still sleeping. Forcing my voice to sound as cheerful as I can I call out, "It's open! Come on in."  
  
For a few moments nothing happens. I turn off the tap and then reach for one of my bottles. No, wait. No pills. Not while Mary is here.  
  
I hear the door swing open slowly and then hear it close again. Banzai lifts his head and flicks his ears, the cat's tail slowly lashes back and forth.  
  
Oh, shit look at all those dirty dishes on the counter! I set down the glass of water and hastily start grabbing plates and piling them in the sink.  
  
Over my shoulder I call out cheerfully, "You're late. I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to get here, seriously. You should have called if you were going to be late. I've been up for a while. All alone waiting, despairing," I chuckle.  
  
Slow footsteps in the back hall, across the landing. They pause at the entrance to the kitchen. I smile to myself and reach for my glass of water, bringing it to my lips to take a sip before I turn around to greet Mary.  
  
"I didn't know you were expecting me."  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
And now a word from our sponsor:  
  
"*SCREAMS!!!!!!!!!!!!!* I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING HORRENDOUS BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOP DOING THIS TO US!!!!! FUCKING PRICK!!!! FUCK YOU!!!! I REFUSE TO COMMENT ON THIS UNLESS YOU WRITE MORE!!!! MY GOD I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!! AND MY HEART WAS POUNDING THE ENTIRE TIME AND YOU STOP THERE AND YOU JUST WANT US TO GET PISSED AT YOU AND, AND... AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *dies from lack of air*"  
  
If you concur with Lilas you can simply tell me so, you don't -have- to call me a bitch -again-. Of course if you -want- to, you can. I guess it means you care, right? E-hehehe. Right. -_-;;;; 


	19. All That's Left

Disclaimer: They aren't mine and they never will be, but I can play with them all I want as long as I put them back when I'm done.  

Comments:  Well folks, here it is the end.  It's been fun and aggravating and time consuming and has given me a nervous tick. Well not all that really, but it –could- have.  All in all I've really enjoyed writing this fic and have been really happy that people liked it so much and gave so much positive feedback and all that.  *chuckles* And I must now apologize to the anonymous reviewer who bade me not write this chapter but leave the ending hanging.  I have to admit that the thought had crossed my mind all on its own, but I really did want to finish this, and I knew of at least eight people who would have lynched me had I left it.  LOL.  Oh well.  Oh the literary possibilities that are wasted.  Anyway, I don't know how much I'll be writing this next coming semester.  I submitted some of my writing to the writing department at my university and was accepted into the Creative Writing class, so I have the feeling that a lot of my creative energies will be focused there and somehow I don't think that fan fiction homoerotica is going to make Professor Towers very happy LOL.  Unfortunately my little mind never stops working and I am already plagued by hatching brainstorms, so we'll see.  I do have to work on **_Ink_** with **Fei** regardless (Christmas break has made it doubly hard since we are now 17 hour apart, damn Alaska time…).  I kinda feel like I should finish up all my loose threads, but I don't know if I have enough will power or self control to do that… I have monkey mind.  And here I go babbling away again when nobody cares… bleh.  And I've been thinking about re-posting **_The Saga Begins_** and **_A Series of Unfortunate Events_** because oddly enough I have heard that people have actually been looking for them, which surprises me to no end.  Of course I feel that if I post them I really ought to have a good reason, like finally getting around to writing that damn **_Saga_** sequel I keep telling myself I'm going to write or at least writing another piece for **_Unfortunate Events_**, which really shouldn't be all that hard and yet here I sit procrastinating and whining to myself. Life is so hard, pity me.  (________________) ------ _insert pity here_  And then again I am wondering why I am going on about this since most likely I'm the only one who really cares.  Bleh.  Ok well I have rambled for far too long about far too little of any importance.  So go on with you, read and feel cathartic and stuff.  And then review when you are done and make me happy.  *grins*  I for one need to get more sleep.  ~_o  Sleeeeepy…

Notes: Vung Tao and Cam Ranh are real places where hospitals with over 200 some beds existed during the Vietnam War.  Didn't want people to think I was blowing smoke out my ass.  Hehehe.    

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  ****  

For five seconds my world stands still.  The hair on the back of my neck stands up.  A   prickling runs along my spine.  The cat looks up and past my shoulder, licking her mouth clean of cat food.  She doesn't seem too interested in what she sees, but then she never does.  My eyes stare away into nothingness, the room before me blurs out of focus.

That voice.  Did I hear what I think I heard, or was my mind, still caught up in the day's reminiscence, playing tricks on me?  When I turned around it would be Mary standing there, smiling at me, looking just slightly worried.  

But if that was true why did I feel so tense, so uncertain, like I was going to be sick.  

But I couldn't just stand there with my back turned.  

Chuckling softly I take the glass of water in my hand and begin to turn around. Mary isn't going to be very happy when I tell her she sounds like a man. "You know, Mare, for a second you sounded like this g-." 

I've turned around now, my eyes seeking out the form that hovers in the entryway to my kitchen.  Long, lean, uncertain he stands looking back at me, hands tucked deep into his pockets.  I know that jacket.  Fujimiya embroidered over the left breast, a 326th AHC wing pin pinned to the collar.  It's a lot more worn than I remember it, a few more patches sewn onto the front.  "Vietnam/Cambodia War Games Participant 67-69."  His hair was a little longer, but his eyes… his eyes were the same deep, endless indigo blue that they had always been.

"Ran…" The name passes my lips in little more than a rush of air.   

*Crash* 

The water glass slips from my hands, cool glass falling past my trembling fingers.  Glass and water fly in all directions and I recoil, crying out in surprise.  Banzai yelps, frightened by not only the strange man who has entered his house but also the fearful clatter of the shattering glass.  

"Ken!" I hear him cry as I begin to fixate on the broken mess on my floor.  Anything, anything to keep from looking at him, thinking about him.  I'm too confused, what the hell is going on?  

Is he crossing the kitchen, is he coming towards me, this ghost from my dreams and nightmares? 

I hear Banzai growl low in his throat.  I see him in my mind's eye, head down, tail down, growling over his food dish, growling over me.  I can't stop shaking, someone hold me still, I can't stop shaking.     

I hear his footsteps stop.  Maybe it was all just an illusion, maybe he's gone now.  I lift my head, but he's still there, but not staring at me, staring at my dog.  Banzai snarls and lowers his head standing between me and Ran.  

"Good dog," I hear Ran breathe softly as he begins to back pedal.  

I'm amazed, entranced by the hostility I see in Banzai's body.  His hair raised, teeth bared, snarling, growling.  All to keep me safe, he really does take care of me.  What a good dog.  

Then suddenly Ran raises his eyes to find mine, they are terrified, hurt, lost.  And my eyes meet his and suddenly I understand that I'm not seeing some apparition, some delusion of my mind, but Ran.  There before me, desperately searching my eyes for some kind of recognition, some kind of meaning, is the man who I have loved and lost for five long years, the one whose name I cry in despair in the night when I am all alone and cold.  

The exchange between us lasts less than a second for as soon as his eyes leave those of my dog, Banzai's instincts tell him that now is the time.  With a final low growl he bunches his muscles and prepares to spring; his prey is off guard.  

"Banzai, no!" I scream, lunging forward just as my dog's muscles release.  I step down amidst the broken glass, tiny shards piercing the soft underside of my foot, but I hardly notice.  With a pained cry I grab at Banzai's fur, taking great handfuls, pulling him down, holding him back.  

He snarls and struggles, barking frantically, teeth gnashing at the air.  Ran stares down at us, bewildered, and then continues to back pedal.

"Banzai, calm down!" I cry, holding him around the neck.  "Good boy, good boy," I soothe him, trying to reach around to pet his ears.  But the sudden movement of my hand frightens him and catches him off guard.  As I reach around he turns his head and snaps, his teeth digging into my flesh, drawing blood. 

And as I cry out in pain he realizes what he has done and falls still, trembling, whimpering in my arms.  He licks at my hand and then at my face, ears down, throat shown, begging for forgiveness.  

"I'm sorry, boy," I say.  "It's ok."  

And then I look up, searching for Ran, but he's gone.  Releasing Banzai I spring to my feet, wincing at the sharp pain that shoots through my foot.  "Ran?!" I cry and limp into the back hall.  

Throwing open the door I hobble onto the porch and scream his name again as I watch him cross my yard, heading towards the gate.  He pauses at the sound of my voice and turns slowly, almost reluctantly and I can see the tears in his eyes.  

"I'm sorry, Ken.  I've never brought you anything but grief.  Just forget that I came here today," he calls to me, his voice catching as he begins to turn away.

"Wait!" I cry, trying to limp down my stairs.  "Ran, wait, where the hell are you going?! Don't make me chase you, I can't chase you like this, but I will.  Please, don't make me!" 

He turns towards me again.  The look on his face is so sad, so pitiable.  Why is he looking at me like that?  Why do I feel like the one who's breaking his heart?  

We stare at each other for a few moments and then he turns.  I feel like all my strength is gone.  Why is he walking away?  I don't understand.  Taking one more step down the stairs I stumble and grab frantically at the railing, catching myself as I cry out in pain.  Bloody footsteps litter my porch.  Bloody handprints mar my banister.  

At the sound of my cry he looks back, turning, wanting to make sure I'm alright, but I'm not and if he walks away I will never be alright ever again.  I haven't been alright since I lost him, and now suddenly he's here, but won't stay, won't say more that five words to me.  My hand clinging lamely to the railing I sink down on the last step and begin to weep, great sobs wrack my body.  

"Don't leave me!  Jesus, don't leave me again!" I sob.  "I'm sorry about the dog, I'm sorry, Ran, please, don't leave."  

I can't take it.  I know that if he goes I will never make it.  Not all the pills in the world could save me from knowing his love for me has died.  Why would he come here, show himself to me, and then leave me alone and broken?  

"Oh, God, don't leave me alone," I whisper.  

And then he is there, sitting at my side, touching my face, turning me towards him.  Choking on my sobs I look into his eyes and they seem different now, less tortured, but more confused.  "Is that what you want?  Do you want me to stay?"

"Of course!  Oh my God, Ran, it's you!" I cry, falling limply against his chest, tears staining my face.  "Where have you been?  Where have you been?!"  I am overwhelmed by the feel and smell of him.  So longed after, these sensations, so familiar and yet far away.  The warmth of his body is like nothing else I have ever felt as I hold myself against him.  

I think I must still be dreaming.  Nothing this good ever happens to me.  Soon the fog of sleep will lift and I will wake alone on my bed, but for just right now I don't care.  I weep against him and hear small answering cries of his own, as small kisses are placed on my hair.   

He quiets me, running a hand over my hair, taking me in his arms and rocking me gently.  

"It doesn't matter," he answers.

"Like hell it doesn't," I grumble through my tears, holding onto him tightly.  "I've needed you."  

"I'm sorry.  I didn't know.  I'm here now, and I'll stay if that's what you want," he murmurs in my ear.  

"I thought you were dead, I thought you didn't love me anymore," I say against him.  

He is quiet for a long time, holding me until it starts to rain again.  

"Let's go inside," he says at length and I let him pull me to my feet and support me as I try to make my way up the stairs, limping on my cut foot.  Finally we make it back across the kitchen and into the living room where he sits me down on the couch.  

Banzai watches us guiltily from his bed, ears tucked down, head lowered in submission.  He whines and trots over to the couch to lick at my hand.  Ran gives him a wary glance, but doesn't seem to mind too much.  

"Do you have anything I can treat your cuts with?" he says quietly, indicating my two small wounds.  

I nod.  "Yeah, there is a first aid kit in the cupboard by the fridge," I answer.  It feels so stupid to talk to him about boring normal things.  I feel like there're so many more important things to be said.  But it was always like Ran to think of the practical things first. 

I settle back into the cushions and try to make things sink in, but I'm still floating around on my superficial emotions.  It's Ran, -Ran-, I keep telling myself.  Here, with me, taking care of me.  So why do I feel so calm?  I close my eyes and listen to him moving around in the kitchen.  

"Kenny?"  I hear the front door open again, footsteps in the back hall.  "Sweety, are you here?  I'm sorry I'm late, hon, but the store was suddenly overrun, I have no idea what got into the people in this town this afternoon.  Ken… who the hell are you?  Where's Ken?!"

I chuckle to myself.  I wish I could see this exchange.  

"Answer me you ragamuffin, what have you done with my Kenny?!  And why is there blood on the front stoop? *gasp*  How could you, you beast?!"

"No, it's not like that!  I'm a friend of Ken's," I hear Ran say hurriedly.  

"Ken doesn't have any friends!"  I think Mary just hit him with her purse.  

"Ken, back me up!  Argh!"

"Brute!  What have you done with him?  Where is he?!"  More sounds of Ran feebly trying to come up with explanations while Mary hits him.  

"Ow!  Woman, leave me alone!" Ran growls.

"Oh, how dare you!"

Chuckling I grab the back of the couch and hoist myself up, peering over the back.  "Mary!  Mary, it's alright!  I'm right here, don't worry.  Ran is a friend of mine from Nam," I call, laughing under my breath.  

She jumps and turns towards me, her hand still clamped down around a fistful of Ran's jacket.  "Oh, Kenny, I didn't see you there."  She turns back to Ran and lets go of his jacket.  "Sorry, my dear," she coos, smoothing his clothing, "but I thought you were a thief or something.  Well, no harm done.  You must have flown with Ken then, isn't that nice.  My son was in the war too, but he never came home.  Well now I just don't know quite what to do.  I've made a fool of myself and I only brought enough for two.  Ken, you didn't tell me you were having company."

"I didn't know I was having company," I say, looking distinctly at Ran.  

He looks back and me and for a moment it's just like it used to be.  We're caught in each other, and I don't ever want to let go.  

I don't know if Mary notices and I don't care.  After a moment she takes a deep breath and goes on.

"Well, that's nice, and after you had been having such a hard day too.  Well, I'll leave the groceries here then and be on my way.  It was nice meeting you, err… Ronald?"  

Ran tears his eyes from mine and takes Mary's hand which is offered to him.  "No, just Ran.  I'm sure I will see you again."

Mary nods absently and then rushes over to the couch to give me a hug.  That done she says goodbye, and still looking slightly confused, leaves, calling over her shoulder.  "I set the groceries in the back hall.  Have a good time catching up, you two."

As soon as the door closes I dissolve into a fit of giggles and sink back down onto the couch.  I hear Ran grumble something about weird old ladies and then start to chuckle to himself.  

When he comes back to the couch he is holding the first aid kit and a few wet paper towels.  

"Who was that?"

"Mary, my boss.  She was going to make me dinner tonight."

"She said you had a bad day.  Why is that?"

I smile up at him distantly and as I gaze at his beautiful, living face my smile wavers as tears begin to gather in my eyes.  "Without you, every day has been a bad day," I say softly.  

He looks down at me, emotions barely held in check swimming in his eyes and then he falls to his knees beside the couch, dropping the first aid kit, leaving it forgotten.  He buries his head against my stomach, kissing me through the fabric of my shirt, crying softly as he does so, his hands come up to grasp me, as I feel his trembling breath against my body.  

"Hidaka…  I thought you didn't want to see me, I thought it was over.  All this time I thought… and now… So much wasted time," he murmurs against me.  

I reach down to run my fingers though his hair, my tears falling to answer his own.  "What happened?  Why would you think that?  I looked…" I choke, "I looked for you everywhere I could and you weren't anywhere.  I didn't know if you were dead or if you hated me for what I put you through in the crash.  You were just gone, and you never looked for me, I never heard from you," I whispered.

He looks up slowly and meets my eyes, giving me a pained, lost look.  His fine, red brows furrow together and he stares at me silently.  "I know.  But, Ken, I…  It's a long story."  

I open my mouth to reply, but he cuts me off, shaking his head, holding up a hand.  "Wait, let me fix your hand and foot first.  I think you've got glass embedded in the cut," he says pushing up off the couch.

Ran doctors my wounds patiently, and I simply lie back with my eyes closed, trying to push the questions out of my mind, and reveling in the feel of his hands on my body again.  I don't even mind the sharp pangs that run through my foot and up my leg as he removes more than one piece of glass.  Whether there is pain or not, his touch, his presence, his –being- is pure pleasure.  

"Done," he says in that deep, even voice I know so well.  

I nod, looking up at him with soft, hooded, and tired eyes.  I want to drink him in, just lie there forever and absorb his presence.  

He seems to be content to do the same, leaning towards me slowly to take my hand and hold it tightly.  Our fingers lace together and I can't help but notice how much rougher his hands seem to me, they feel tired and worried.  My mind turns towards wondering, and I think about where he might have been, what he might have been doing in those five years we've been apart.

I feel my breath hitch and the tell tale stinging in my eyes, and I know I am in danger of turning to tears again.  Closing my eyes I take a deep breath, lying back, my fingers tightening around his.  My breath quavers and my lips quiver.  

"I can't believe that you're here," I say, my voice trembling.  "I just can't believe it.  Why didn't you come for me sooner, Ran?  Why did you leave me alone here?  Where have you been?"  My voice is little more than a soundless breath by the time I am done talking.  His fingers tighten within mine and I hear him quiet me softly. 

"We need to talk," he says after a time, tugging on my arm.  "How about some coffee?"

Surprised by his sudden change in topic I open my eyes and look up at him.  He smiles dimly and tugs on my arm again.  "I'll make some coffee and we can talk."

I let him pull me off the couch and walk, with him supporting me, to my kitchen table.  Sitting down, I pull away from the warmth of his body reluctantly and wait, watching his back as he walks back to the kitchen.  

"Where is your coffee maker?" he asks absently and then I hear the sound of crunching glass and he looks down, back peddling hastily.  "Crap, I gotta clean up this mess," he grumbles under his breath, ducking down behind the counter.  I hear him picking through the remnants of my water glass.

"The coffee maker is on the counter.  You want me to do that, clean that up, that is?" I call to empty air.

He chuckles.  "No, I've cleaned up after you before. I can do it again, Hidaka.  Besides, you don't need to be walking around on your foot."

I watch the counter top, unable to see Ran, and I find myself becoming unsettled.  "Ran, do that later, please.  Just come and sit with me," I call.  

He looks up over the counter and grins.  "Don't be impatient.  You don't want that mongrel of yours walking through this mess do you?  Forget the fact that he wanted to rip out my throat not long ago."

"He was scared.  Just make the coffee and come talk to me," I grumble, putting my head on my arms, watching as he ducks down again, going back to cleaning up the mess.  After a few moments I can no longer stand the fact that I can't see him and get up, grumbling as I limp towards the kitchen, rounding the counter to stand and look down at him.  

I stoop at his side and duck my hands in among his to help pick at the broken shards.  Being so close to him causes me to tremble.  Watching him out of the corner of my eyes it begins to dawn on me that even if this really is Ran, which it is, I know that to be true, he is different from the man I knew five years ago.  We were together for such a short time really.  A few months, half a year at most.  And yet it was that time that I think most distinctly of as my life.  But who are we now, with so many years and happenings between us?  I'm not even sure who I am now, so how can I have any idea where to start as far as knowing him again goes?  He smiles to himself as I crouch beside him and then he starts to bat at my hands.

"You're hands are shaking, you're going to cut yourself," he says flatly.  

"I will not," I grumbled, shouldering him playfully.  

He goes on grabbing at my hands, trying to push them away, and before I know it we are giggling like children, play wrestling with our arms and hands.  I am suddenly reminded of another game of wrestling we played.  A game that ended in our lovemaking.  

"Ran…" I say softly, caught off guard by the sudden flood of strong emotions that courses through my body.  

But he's still playing.  Next thing I know he's pushed me back onto my rear and I have to scoot away, backing myself up against the lower cupboards before he can tackle me.  I eye him warily as he turns and leans forward onto his knees.  

"You always manage to end up where I want you of your own accord," he says in a low voice, grinning, stalking towards me on all fours.    

I don't trust myself to speak or even barely breathe as he pulls himself up between my legs, placing one hand on my face.  His deep, dark eyes, hooded and infinitely soft meet mine, smiling at me, twinkling in a way that I don't recognize.  I can feel the warm heat spread over my cheeks and I begin to blush.  He makes me feel so exposed.   

"I just realized something," he says huskily.

"What's that?" I ask a little nervously.  

"I haven't kissed you hello, yet," he answers caressing my face.  

"Oh."

"I guess I'd better."

"Guess so."

My eyes flutter closed, my lips part, waiting, expectant of his touch.  Ripples chase though my stomach, my heart pounding, beating so hard that I can hear the rushing of my blood in my ears.  I sit, anticipating him, the longings and unanswered desires of half a decade causing my breath to come short and my whole body to tingle with the dawning realization that the waiting is over.    

Like the faintest, softest fluttering of wings or silk I feel the first, tentative inquiry of his lips.  His warm breath mingles with mine as we hesitate for a moment, breathing each other in, letting the feel of the impending kiss wash over us.  And then I don't want to wait any longer and I press forward to push against him, sliding gently against the yielding flesh of his mouth.  My blood warms as our lips slowly but surely intensify their quest for each other.  Cutoff whimpers and urgent moans somehow fight their way past and between our mouths as we become entangled in each other.  Arms and hands reach out to grasp clothing and hair, to caress bare skin and hold tightly to what feels so desperately like it might be a gray, fading dream.  

Before long we are both completely lost to each other.  It feels like that first time, that rain drenched night on the training field when Ran took my pills and told me he wouldn't let me destroy myself.  That was the first time he saved my soul and now I feel even more urgently than then that he is doing the same.  I let his arms close around me, pulling me forward into his lap and open my mouth to him, letting passion rule me as his tongue slips past my lips.  We give and take, whispering senseless sentiments during desperate, breathless breaks.

And then suddenly the moment passes and I find myself laying my head against his shoulder, burying my face against his neck, breathing heavily, taking in the scent of his skin.  

He continues to kiss me, placing both quick and lingering kisses on my hair and along the curve of my neck.  

"Ran," I sigh softly, closing my eyes against the emotions that threaten to engulf me and send me back to tears.  I don't want to cry anymore.  With him here I never want to have to cry again.  "I love you.  I never stopped loving you," I whisper.

Ran chokes and squeezes me more tightly against his body.  "I never thought I'd hear you say that again.  For the longest time I thought you were lost to me."

"Why?  Why would you think that?  Why, Ran?  I looked and waited and never heard from you," I cry softly.  "I didn't know if you were alive or dead, and eventually the waiting was too hard, I couldn't go on willing myself to hold on, so I gave up.  You never came for me and I gave up."  My words choke me, tasting foul and hateful in my mouth.  I don't want to sound bitter and angry, but a part of me is, not really at him so much, but at life, at everything.  

He rocks me to and fro, holding me tightly, and it seems to me that he wants to speak but can't find the words.  

Then finally he sighs and presses his cheek against my hair.  "We have a lot to talk about."  

For a few more minutes we sit together, not willing to press the issues, or dive into exactly what that long talk is going to entail.  Then I pull back and kiss him quickly, keeping my eyes open and locked on his.  "Were you going to make coffee?"

He smiles and reaches up quickly, taking my face in his hands and pulling me back into another kiss.  I can't help but chuckle and I feel his smiling lips against mine.  He playfully bites my bottom lip and then rocks back to look at me.  

"Well I was going to, but it's kinda hard with you in my lap," he says.

"Ha ha ha."

Using the counter for leverage I stand up and reach my hand down to him, pulling him up after me.  His eyes laugh silently as he looks at me and I pull back from the circle of his arms.  

"What?"

He shakes his head, red hair shifting smoothly around his face.  "Nothing.  I just… you look older."  

I roll my eyes.  "I am older.  Five years older," I say bluntly.  "Five years, Ran."

He looks at me intently and his smile fades a bit.  "That's half a decade.  So much to talk about.  Ken…"

I cut him off.  "Just make the coffee, we can talk a little later.  And while you're at it go take your shoes off while I finish cleaning up this mess."

"What's wrong with my shoes?"

"Nothing, except that this is my house and I don't let people wear shoes inside.  That's the way I was brought up.  Don't argue with me."

"Hn.  Heaven forbid."  

Eventually I get the rest of the glass up off the floor and then lean back against the counter, watching Ran, taking in his every movement, every difference and similarity to the man I used to know as he goes around my kitchen in his stocking feet.  We don't talk.  Ran hums and whistles to himself under his breathe and I can't help but be amazed that this is the same man I used to know.  It seems as if there is a huge weight gone from him.  Even in our few moments alone together in Nam, he was never this playful or lighthearted.  I can't help but think that in contrast I am now the opposite.  So much of my youthfulness, my light, carefree attitude is gone.  My world is so much heavier than it was those five years ago.  

I drop my eyes and trace the patterns in the linoleum.  The wheels in my head slowly turn, bringing up this and that, examining angles and uncertainties.  

"Cream and sugar?"

I look up, startled by the sound of his voice.

"What?"

He cocks his head.  "I asked if you want cream and sugar.  Where did you go?"

"Nowhere, just thinking."

"It's not good for you, thinking that is."

"What?"

He chuckles.  "Never mind.  You still haven't answered my question."

"Oh… just black."  

Shrugging he turns away and looks around the kitchen.  "Where do you keep the coffee cups?"

"Glasses are in the cupboard by the sink," I say, my voice trailing off as he turns towards the sink area.  And then I realize my mistake.  Reaching after him I cry, "Wait, I'll get them!" 

But it's too late.  He gives me a funny look and then reaches for the cupboard.  I see him pause, his eyes finally falling on the backsplash and my collection of prescription pill bottles.  I tense up.  No, I don't want him to see that.  I don't want him to know.  Oh God, why did I let him see?  

His hand falls back to the counter and he reaches towards one of the bottles.  I can hear the oh too familiar sound of little plastic pills rattling against each other as he picks it up to read the label.  I watch him, stuck in some morbid fascination, wondering what he will say, what he will do, but when his head begins to turn towards me I turn my face away, putting my head in one hand, defensively crossing my other arm across my chest.  I can feel his eyes on me now, but I refuse to look back at him.  I don't want to see the anger or the pity or the disgust.  Whatever it is that's there, I don't want to see it.  

The hair on the back of my neck prickles and I ready myself with a rebuttal to whatever it is he has to say.  I wait, readying myself for his words of rebuke, but they never come.  I hear him sigh softly through his nose and set the bottle back down.

"I'll pour the coffee, why don't you sit down?"  His voice is low and tired sounding.  I hate it.

Without a word I pad out of the kitchen and go to sit down, but I go past the table and back into the living room.  Despondently I plunk myself down on the couch again and try to clean my mind of all the doubts and worries that are chasing around inside of it.  I put my head in my hands.  How can I ever explain to him how I feel, how I've felt and fallen apart all these years?  He'll think I'm weak.  But I am weak.  So weak without him.  

I don't hear him as he comes up beside me holding my coffee mug in front of me, leaning over the back of the couch.  Looking up I take it silently and warm my hands around it.  A gentle, teasing, tingling feeling runs through me as I feel his long fingers run through my hair.  He doesn't say anything and his silence is painful.  

"I'm sorry," I whisper.  

"Don't be," he answers softly, rubbing the back of my neck.  "We'll work things out." 

He shifts and comes to sit down next to me, hanging his head, eyes trained on the carpet as he too warms his hands against his cup.  I feel his hand come to rest on my arm and I look over to meet his eyes.  He smiles again, but I can tell it's forced.  

"Where do you want to start?" he asks.

Taking a deep sigh I try to think of something to say, some place where I want to start, but my mind is overcrowded with questions.  All I can think to say is, "At the beginning.  Tell me what happened to you after they took you away."  

He sighs and then sits back, wrapping one hand around his coffee cup, putting the other one in his lap.  He thinks for a moment and takes a sip of his coffee and then starts to talk.

"In truth I don't remember much about the crash.  It's all just fuzzy, you probably have a better idea of what happened than me.  I remember waking up in a hospital in the middle of the night, all hooked up to machines and tubes.  A nurse on the night shift came in doing her rounds and found me awake.  The doctors told me later that none of them thought I would ever wake up.  When I got there I was practically dead I guess, but like I said I don't remember any of that."

"How did they treat you?  You had broken ribs, and your lung..." I trail off, remembering again that day and all the horror and suffering and pain I went through with and for Ran and he for me.  He didn't even remember what had happened and here all this time I thought he resented me for the pain I made him hold onto.  Somewhere along the line it was all becoming a sick joke.    

Ran takes another breath and stands up abruptly and starts to take off his jacket.  I watch him curiously, but don't say anything.  He places the jacket over the back of the couch, and then tugs up the hem of his plain t-shirt.  Slowly he exposes his abdomen to me, and my eyes widen slightly at the sight.  His skin is still so pale and smooth that I can't keep myself from reaching out to touch him, but it isn't the perfection that really draws my attention, it's the imperfection.  A long, uneven scar runs the length of his ribcage, almost right down the center, but just slightly off.  My fingers wander lazily over his skin and then trace down the length of the long, dark line.  It feels like he tenses under my touch, but I can't be sure.  

"The broken ribs tore up my lung when I was breathing.  They had to remove it," he says flatly.  "They put metal pins in my ribs to keep them in place, but no one really expected them to heal.  Sometimes they still bother me, but…  I'm alive, so I can't really complain."

"Oh, Ran," I breath as my fingers continue to feel over the smooth scar.  "I fought so hard to keep you breathing.  Did I?  Was I wrong?"  I can't think of what else I want to say, or where my train of thought should be going, so I fall silent and close my eyes.  My hand falls away and I hear him lower his shirt, the soft sound or rustling cotton. 

"You saved my life, Ken.  I'm alive because of you.  I don't care about this," he touches his chest with one hand, "because I'm alive to share this with you now," he says quietly and I feel his hands in my hair again, prompting me to look up.  There are tears forming in my eyes again, and looking at him like this is almost painful.  With a small, soft cry I wrap my arms around his waist and pull him tightly against me, resting my head against his stomach, breathing him in so deeply that he fills every part of me.  I am reminded of that moment we'd shared in Nam behind the barracks, but now it seems our roles are reversed.  How did that keep happening?  

I don't want to let go of him, and I tell him so.  I just want to hold onto him, to feel him and know that he's there and real, not some feverish delusion caused by my tired, wasted mind or the chemicals I willingly put into it.  I cry softly against him, my eyes aching from all the crying I've already done today.  Letting me keep my arms around him he sits beside me again and pulls me against him, pulling me down until we are both lying on the couch and my head is against his heart.  I listen to the soft, rhythmic sound of his life and fall in love with him yet again.   

He talks a little more about his time in the hospital, his rehabilitation, all the time he was bedridden, forbidden to walk around in fear that his ribs wouldn't heal right.  How strange it felt to be always short of breath until he got used to breathing with only one lung.  For some reason this strikes me as both painful and funny in a way.  

When he finishes I pick up the line and tell him about my last few months at Pang Nuan, about what happened to Max and Jei and any of the other guys I thought he'd care about.  And then I tell him about my search for him after the war was over.  How I looked hopelessly through the medical records even though I knew pretty well that there wasn't going to be anything, about all the personnel I tried to talk to and get a hold of and the letter I'd received.

I know he wants me to say something about the crash, about what happened when we were shot down. He wants me to talk, to tell him about it, but I don't really feel like it.  But how can I just sit here and say nothing?  "You really don't remember anything about the crash?"

"Nothing," he says quietly.  "Just… I just know it happened, and then nothing."

"It was… bad.  The crash was bad.  The gun broke off, you know, pinned you to the wall, broke most of your ribs on one side I think.  Punctured lung and all that.  I remember…all the blood you kept coughing up.  I kept forcing you to stay awake and breathe.  I didn't want to be alone.  And you kept looking at me like you wanted to die, you were is so much pain.  Your eyes… they hated me sometimes.  I was sure I was going to lose you one way or another." 

A sort of bleakness settles in my veins, just thinking about it makes me feel empty and blank.  I think that if I sit still long enough all the pain and grief will all drain out my fingertips.  Everything feels so heavy.

His hand touches my arm again.  "You can't lose me."

A bitter, ironic little laugh builds in my chest and escapes, sharp and brittle.  "But I did.  I lost you for five years.  Don't tell me that I can't lose you, Ran.  That's a lie."

"Ken…"

"What?  What do you have to say to me?  If you've been alive all this time, why did you abandon me?  Where did you go, where have you been?!" I cry desperately, suddenly overwhelmed with anger and bitterness.  I push myself up and stare down at him, my eyes hard and fevered.  

He props himself up on his elbows and stares at me hard.  "I never meant to 'abandon' you, Ken.  I thought…"

"What?!  What did you think, Fujimiya?" I snap.  "Did you think I would get over all of it?  That I'd be ok on my own?  Did you think that it wouldn't fall apart if you just stayed silent and let me believe what I wanted to?!"

His eyes flash angry.  In a way I'm almost relieved, almost pulled back into nostalgia by the familiar, hard edged glare that he gives me.  "That's now what I thought.  Listen to me," he grates, reaching up and grabbing my forearms.  

"I'm listening, what did you –think-, Ran?" I say again.  

"I thought you didn't want to have anything to do with me.  I thought you wanted me to leave you alone," he answers in a low, dangerous voice.

I ignore it.  I give an unamused, sarcastic little laugh.  It's so much easier to be angry than to go on crying.  So often I feel nothing.  "Why the hell would you think that?  Ran I was in love with you!  And after the war was over I couldn't handle being without you!  I couldn't handle not knowing.  Not knowing drove me crazy, literally!  All those pills… I'm not normal anymore, Ran!  I have… I have -disorders-," I cry.  "That's what being without you did to me!  And you have the nerve to tell me that you thought I didn't want to be with you?!"  

I feel frantic, enclosed, my breathing becomes shallow and I push away from him, my hand coming up to my forehead.  I struggle to stand; I can't be that close to him.  I'm too hot, I feel dizzy.  

"Ken, hold on," he says reaching up to grab my arm. 

"No!  Let go of me!" I shout, wrenching out of his grip, but this only makes me feel worse, nauseous.  "I need air.  Oh, God," I breathe.  Getting up I stumble away from the couch and feel my knees begin to give in.  Slowly I sink to the floor and kneel there, clutching my chest with one hand, pushing my hair, which feels like it is clinging maddeningly to my forehead, up with the other.    

Somewhere in the back of my head I can hear Banzai barking.  This hasn't happened in so long.  I haven't had an attack in so long.  I knew I should have taken a pill.  I can feel the irrational anxiety building in my mind and the cold sweat that breaks out on my body as a result.  

Ran's hands on my back, his voice calling my name, but I can't really hear him.  The deafening sounds of chopper blades and gunfire, screams and shells going off fill my ears.  So distant and yet right here, right now.  It never ends.  

"Ken?  Ken?!  Are you ok?  What do you need?!" he cries, coming to kneel in front of me, pushing my shoulders up so that he can look into my face.  

I can't say anything, I can't form words I just stare at him with wide, scared eyes.  My body shakes, my breathing comes in quick little gasps.  

"Oh my God.  I'll call for help," he says under his breath and then begins to pull away.  

No, don't leave me!  Reaching out frantically I clamp down on his arm and dig my fingers in.   I shake my head.  "N-no!" I managed.  

His eyes soften, but are still filled with worry.  He pulls himself up to my side and supports me as my heart begins to calm and my breathing begins to even out.  Slowly the world comes back into focus as I feel his hand gently run over my back in broad circles. The sound of his voice soothes me and chases away the irrational fears that hold my mind in a vice.  

When the anxiety attack is over I kneel, nearly doubled over again, panting.  

"I'm sorry," I hiss.  

"Why?  Are you ok?" he asks urgently pulling me up again, coming to kneel in front of me again.  

Gulping I nod and let my hand fall from my forehead.  He runs his hand up in its place, pushing away my bangs so that he can see my eyes.  I blink at him rapidly, trying to clear the last bit of fogginess from my vision.  He looks at me longingly, so much fear and sadness and trepidation in his eyes.  I feel his fingers trace over the scar on my forehead and he notices it for the first time.  

He whispers my name softly and then hangs his head.  "I had no idea it was like this, Ken.  I swear, I didn't know."  

With a soft cry I throw myself forward against him and wrap my arms around his neck.  He answers my need for him, and pulls me against him, kissing my ear.  

"Do you see?" I sob.  "Do you see what being without you has done to me?  I'm not strong anymore, Ran.  I was never strong enough for this.  Please, just tell me why you didn't find me.  Tell me why, when this is what happened to me without you, you thought I wanted it to be over."  

"Because you didn't answer my letters," he says softly.

"I never got any letters!" I cry.  "There was nothing to answer!"

He holds me more tightly.  "I know that now.  I didn't know then.  I'm sorry, Ken.  Please believe me.  In those letters I told you everything, I poured my soul into them.  And when you didn't answer at first I told you that it was all right if you had realized how foolish we were.  I told you that if that was the case to simply never answer, and I'd know, because I didn't want to hear.  And you never answered, so I got on with my life."  

"There was nothing to answer," I moan.  "There was nothing.  I never heard."  

"I know, Ken.  I know that now.  I know," he answers softly, soothingly.

"How, how do you know?" I ask against the crook of his neck.  

He is silent for a while and then finally answers, an unmistakable sadness in his voice.  "Youji told me."  

For a moment I just let his words process and then I pull away, ignoring the tears on my cheeks.  "What?"  

"Youji…told me… everything."

"Told you what?" I ask blankly.  

Ran takes a deep sigh and then begins to brush the tears away with his thumbs.  He just looks at me for a while until I shake my head, shedding his hands.  "Don't.  Just tell me."

"Let's go back to the couch," he says, holding me at arm's length.  I let him pull me up off the floor, leading me back to the couch.  I still feel a little lightheaded, so I stumble slightly.  I keep my eyes locked on him even as he pulls me back down onto the couch, wrapping his arms around me, pulling me down to lie on my side next to him, sandwiched between him and the back cushions.  Before I can stop him he starts to kiss me softly, as if he is suddenly overcome, unable to resist.  Tempted as I am to just give in and let all my weariness fade away in his arms I can't forget his words, or simply let them pass.  

Turning my head away I bring my arms up between us and then glare at him.  "Tell me.  Don't play some game with me, Fujimiya."  

He sighs.  "Alright."

"What did you mean, Youji told you?"  

He takes another deep breath and then locks his eyes with mine.   "About a year ago I decided I wanted to find my mother, because I was tired to having nothing but holes in my life."

"Ran…" I say darkly.

"I promise this will tie in with Youji, just hear me out."  

I look at him warily and then nod, nestling down into his arms, tucking my head under his chin.  "A year ago I decided to find my mother.  It really wasn't as hard as I thought it would be.  I tracked down some of her old friends from our neighborhood in New York and some people she had known in Seattle and they finally led me to her.  She was living in San Francisco with her husband and their kids, half siblings I didn't even know I had.  Meeting her again and finding these people, knowing that I really wasn't ever going to be a real part of her life again really made me realize how much I hated being alone.  I got so depressed and lonely there in San Fran, it hurt, to know that I was nothing to her but some mistake she made.  I mean, she was nice enough, she was very surprised to see me, but I think her family was more surprised.  Anyway.  I remembered while I was in San Fran that you were from there and I started thinking about you, something I usually tried very hard not to do.  But it was like this huge snowball effect.  And then for days all I could think about was seeing you again.  I thought that maybe since there had been time, you wouldn't mind seeing me.  I even toyed with the idea that maybe we still had a chance.  So I looked you up.  Well, your family I guess.  I met your mother.  I told her I was a friend of yours from Nam, but I kinda think she had me figured out.  She said that you'd moved north, that she hadn't even seen you since you got back from your tour.  But she had an address and a number, and I left San Francisco feeling better than I had in years."

Here he pauses and I don't know what to say, or what any of this has to do with Youji.  I shift uncomfortably in his arms.  "You saw my mother?  How is she?"

"She misses you.  All she did was talk about you.  She wanted to know all about what we did in the war.  She didn't know anything.  I met your brother and sister too."

"Kotaro and Sayaka?" I ask, a bit dazedly.

"Eh?  Well they introduced themselves as Corey and Sarah, but I guess maybe those are-."

"Their English names, yeah.  Heh, by the time my mom had me she decided she'd just find a name that fit both cultures.  She was tired of having to explain why her kids had two names."  

"Ah."

"How are they?" I ask sadly.  I haven't really thought about my family in a very long time, other than to be annoyed by my mother's messages.  Her messages… if I had answered them would she have told me about Ran?  Would I have know he was alive that much sooner, been given hope and closure already?  Ah, there was no point in dwelling on the might have beens.

"Good, I guess.  I think your sister is engaged, and your brother didn't really want to talk to me."  

I laugh hollowly.  "Yeah, that's Corey.  We used to be really close, but he… was really affected when he found out about Kase and I.  That I'm…

Ran pulls me closer and kisses my hair.  "Yeah."  He takes a deep breath, allowing me a moment to dwell in my loss and then goes on with his story.  "When I got home, the first thing I did was call Youji.  We stayed in touch ever since I woke up in the hospital."

"What?!"

"Shhh.  Just listen.  I told him all about San Fran and my mother and your mother and finding your address and how I wanted to see you even if you rejected me.  I didn't care, because I wanted some closure, or just to see your face.  I was really excited about it, fearful, but excited.  At first Youji didn't think it was a good idea, and I couldn't understand why he was being such an ass about it, after all he'd told me that he fell out of touch with you when Pan Nuan was closed.  I thought he'd happy," he says.

Again I shift uncomfortably in Ran's arms, biting my tongue to keep from snapping at the pieces of information I know to be false.  But he asked me to be quiet and listen, and so I will.  

"We ended up getting in a rather volatile fight about it and in the end I hung up on him and we didn't talk for weeks.  He kept telling me to just leave well enough alone, that I didn't need to go dragging up old hurts and wounds.  If you wanted to see me, you would have made it obvious a long time ago.  He kept telling me it was for the best to let sleeping dogs lie and let the past be the past.  He kept saying he didn't want me to get hurt again like what happened with Yuushi.  I kept trying to tell him that it was not knowing or understanding what had happened between us that was hurting the most.

"I grew so agitated that I became doubtful about seeing you, and my eagerness waned.  Then Youji called me from out of the blue and said that he'd been doing some thinking and had something to tell me.  He told me that he knew all along where you were.  He said that he'd never told me, but that you'd been transferred out of Pang Nuan, that he'd stopped my letters to you, and lied to you about my probable whereabouts.  That he told you that he didn't know how or where I was, and that he was still in contact with you.  He wanted me to know that he had done this because he knew I would go and see you no matter what he said, and he wanted me to be prepared for how I would find you, and he didn't want there to be any more hurt and confusion between us.  He said that you'd never expressed any desire to end things between us or any regrets which he told me you had.  He said he thought it was for the best when he did it.  He didn't want to see either of us hurt by the other, or end up regretting stupid mistakes that could ruin our lives.  I can't make excuses for him, but in the end I guess I kind of understood why he did what he did."

All through Ran's speech I've felt the blood slowly drain from my face.  I can't believe what I'm hearing.  Youji?  The Lieutenant?  He… he –lied- to me, all that time ago, he lied to me?  He knew where Ran was all along and he lied to me to keep me from him, to keep me from knowing.  Did he think that I would just shrug it off, chalk it up to another loss?  Maybe he thought I would or that I could since I'd already lost so many.  Maybe he figured I'd grown immune.  I just lay there next to Ran and let it all sink in.  My head buzzed and my brain hurt.  Somewhere I dimly realized that that ABBA record was long over.  

"What about that letter?" I asked dimly, not really realizing I was still able to think coherently. 

Ran shook his head.  "I don't know about that.  It's possible that Youji asked whoever wrote it to cover his tracks or it's possible that it was real.  The government doesn't like people poking in their dirty laundry, but that doesn't mean that Kudou himself didn't have the jurisdiction to tell you what happened to me."  

It all just hits me at once.  The unnecessary mess I've made of my life.  How avoidable all this pain has been for both of us.  How fucked everything became and for what?  For nothing.  All because of the misplaced actions of one person, one son of a bitch who thought he knew what was best for two people he didn't understand.  Youji's words come back to me.  

_"If you ever fall in love, and I don't recommend it, but if you do, don't do -anything- to fuck it up. Because if you do, you will have fucked up everything in_ _your life for the rest of eternity."_

Well, Youji, I took your advice.  I fell in love, against your recommendation and I did my best not to fuck it up.  But I guess in the end I didn't have to, because you did it for me.  

I don't even have the energy left to be angry.  I feel like my emotions have been spent.  I can't cry I can't scream I can't do anything but lie here next to him and close my eyes against the mounting feeling of futility that my life is gaining.  

"How could he?" I whisper.  "Then all this… all this has been for nothing.  The pills, the doctors, the loneliness.  All for nothing, Ran.  Suffering so needlessly.  You never were at Vung Tao then?"

He sighs and shakes his head.  "No.  They never took me to Vung Tao.  They took me to Cam Ranh.  That's where I went through treatment and my rehabilitation.  That's why the records you looked through came up empty."  

Sighing something that feels strangely like despair I fist at his shirt and swallow the tears and cries that build in my throat.  I don't want to fall apart again.  I don't want to lose control.  If I just hold onto him, I know I'll make it through.  

"Hey.  Hey," he whispers softly, pulling me against him, wrapping his arms around me yet again, allowing me to find comfort in that embrace as I have done so many times in the past.  "Listen to me, Hidaka.  It doesn't matter now.  Everything we've been through that's all in the past.  It's behind us.  I was so happy when I found out that you might still love me.  You will never know how scared I was to come here today.  Most of me still believed you would turn me away."

"I never could," I whimper against him, fighting to keep the tears at bay.  

"We've been through so much, but we're together now.  Everything will work out."

Looking up at him, finding his eyes so full of love and certainty that it is a little overwhelming, I ask softly.  "How do you know?"

He smiles and pulls me closer, fitting his lips to mine, leaving one sweet, lingering kiss upon me.  "Because it has to.  It's like all us vets say: 'all that's left is heaven, for we've done our time in hell.'"

~*owari*~

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Afterthoughts: Well, there you have it folks.  The fic is officially over.  Well at least that was the last official chapter.  It's been a lot of fun to write and a lot of fun to research, and a lot of fun to get to share with everyone.  I'm really glad that it was a well received and liked as it was, really, made me happy.  *nods nods*  I had wanted to go through my reviews and answer any questions that were there, but I realized that there was really only one question that hadn't managed to answer itself over the course of the fic. LOL.  And that was something Keeshe Kal'daka brought up randomly many many chapters ago when she very first reviewed.  She asked what kind of dog Ken has.  O.o  And well… hmmm… I guess Banzai is a mutt.  Definitely not a Golden Retriever as speculated by Keeshe, because well if the truth be told I hate Golden Retrievers.  -_-;;;  I had two, and both were hyper and slobbery and had no brains whatsoever.  Anyway so I guess Banzai is best described simply as a mutt, with long, thick fur, which is black and reddish brown, a rather long muzzle, and half-pricked ears.  Just some poor puppy Ken picked up at the pound when he was feeling especially lonely and abandoned by the world.  *pets Ken*  Now you know.  

Other than that there really isn't much to say now.  I gave you guys your happy ending even those of you who were hoping for tragedy *pets Pink Bunny*.  Sorry, but I am not truly capable of writing evilness, despite what you all might have said about me at various times. LOL.  So most of you can be happy and those of you who aren't can pout about it, but oh well.  

Finally I'd just like to thank everybody who took the time to tell me what they thought and reviewed, and even to thank everyone else out there who took the time to read but never dropped me a note.  *glares at the lurkers* 

So thank you: **Susan**, **Kaen-chan**, **Koneko Bombay**, **Katarzyna K Yue**, **Lilla**, **Sara-chan**, **Cerana**, **Mystique Monique** (apparently also known as Mina), **Fuzzish**, **Siberian**, **Cherub Katan**, **Hoshii**, **Shavica**, **Hyperventilator** ("egotistical prat" eh? *giggles*), **Kimurii_demon**, **Teteiyus**, **Shime** (we should e-mail again ;_;), **Mikoto the Gnome Girl**, the "**Anonymous Asthmatic Person**" whoever you may be, **Akai Yuki**, **Fiasco**, **Kyri**, **Chibi Koneko**, **MooMooMilk**, **Sniffles**, **Marsupial**, **Kalina Quantum**, **Kia**, **Keeshe Kal'daka**, **Panzer Bride**, **Atsureki**, **Meron Pan Daisuki**, **Niqusrai**, **Quatre's Angel**, **Cindy**, **Silver Eclipse**, **Jin**, **Yosomi**, **Gen X**, **Mierin**, **Sleepy Elf**, **Nekojita**, **Boscofaith**, **Redemption-moon**, and my very first reviewer for this fic ever **Li-chan**.  And then the random people who left sentences/nothing/nonsense conglomerations as names, I thank and love you too.  And I would love to talk to any and all of you, so feel free to drop me a line or something if you want… if you deem me worthy, or whatever.  *points to bio thingy* My addresses etc are up there.

And most wondrous special thanks to all my awesome and much loved friends who I have met through my writing here:  

**Lilas** most of all for putting up with my incessant cyber babble the longest and for beta-ing for me, even if she does have a tendency to abuse me and threaten me with my life upon occasion, even if she calls me a "fucking liar, slave driver bitch," and even had the gumption to come and meet me in person O_O.  

**Fei **because she is awesome and my soul mate ~_^, because she likes ABBA and the Eagles, because she stays up until all hours of the night just to chat to little old –me-, and because she has always been the most awesome sounding board for my cracked out ideas.  ALL FOR YOU!!  ~_^ (I'm so bad.) 

**Yaoke** cause she was the first person to show an actual interest in my writing and has deigned me worthy to grace her website and has even let me do some rather cracked out things for said website, although I know not when I will ever get them done, and also because she helps me manage the bishie ranch, and lets me chew on Ran's hair.  

**Makoto** who is always ever so positive and patient and fun and supportive and praises me way too much for my own good, even if she never updates the RPG she asked me to join and got me all excited about LOL. *pats pats* And because she knows that Legolas is a sexy beast, which he is.    

**Andrea **cause she chats me up online and makes me happy when she does.  

**Ember-fang** cause she as well puts up with my weirdness.    

**VulHashiba/TK Date** cause she understands the sexiness of gay vampires *waves a little Vinny flag*.  

**Pink Bunny** who is too much fun to talk to for her own good, even if she sucks on my earlobe and wants to sexer me -_-;;;.  

And last but not least **Ponder**, who, though she has never actually reviewed –this- fic *glares*, did deem me worthy enough to talk to online, which brought me much joy, and at one point in time gave me great ideas for **_Baby Talk_**… which I never really finished -_-;;;;;;;;;;;;.  

And you know what?  So many of you people really don't care about any of this, but I care, and I hope they care. So deal with my pompousness.  *sticks out tongue*  Hehehe, dang I feel like Halle Berry…..    

  And now is a great time for all you lurkers and everybody else to review for the first and/or last time!  Tell me what you thought of the whole thing, if you please, I would love to know.  Goodness, badness, randomness, whatever.  Jya ne! ^_^


	20. Epilogue: Thanksgiving 1983

Disclaimer: I do not own Wiess nor make any profit from them.  

Comments: I wanted to write an epilogue to Sweet Hell ever since I finished it.  But I wanted to put some time between the end and writing something new for it.  Anyway I hope I managed to get back into the feel of the story.  And I hope you guys enjoy this little flash forward; I thought it was important to write.  Thanks for all your time and for reading this story with as much enthusiasm as you have.  Thanks especially to all the new reviews that have trickled in over the past few months; it's great to know that people are still reading this.  It makes me very happy. ^^  Anyway that's all I have to say.  I'm going to crawl back into my hole now and get back to my class work.  I hope to see you around some in the future.

Notes:  The Vietnam Memorial wall was dedicated on November 13, 1982.  This takes place about one year later.

_______________________________________________________________________ 

Epilogue: Thanksgiving 1983

It's quiet.  I'm alone, sitting on the edge of an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar city.  But that's alright.  I won't be alone for long.  There is a sick, sad excitement building in my stomach. Half of me wants to leap to my feet and run from this place, out of this room, this city, everything.  I don't know if I'm ready for this.  It's been eight years since my hell came to an end, but I'm still not sure that I'm ready to go back into that place in my mind.  

For the first time in years I dreamt about Nam last night.  I dreamt that I was sitting in the infirmary, holding the kid's hand again.  We were talking about philosophy, and I can't remember if this was a conversation we actually had or just something my mind made up on the spur of the moment.  Whatever the case I woke up with a heaviness in my chest I haven't felt for a long time.  

I didn't wake Ran to tell him.  I know that he's been dealing with his own demons lately.  No, instead of waking him I simply touched his face and thanked him for the millionth time for being with me.  I thanked God for giving him back to me.  Heh.  Not that it's been all sweetness and light.  We've had out share of bumps in the road.  There was one point in time where I seriously thought it was over, that we'd gone through everything and come out together only to lose it, only to find out it would never work.  

Bending down to tie my shoes I think about seeing Ran standing in the doorway, a duffel bag over his shoulder and goodbye in his eyes.  He wanted us to move to New York or San Francisco, somewhere, anywhere that wasn't Smallsville, Middleofnowhere.  Anyplace, he said, where even if we weren't accepted, we could at least be tolerated.  I hadn't wanted to leave.  That town was where I was reborn, where he came back to me, and I had attachments to it that I didn't want to sever.  Not that life there was so great after he came back; it wasn't like we could hide who we were.  But I figured that as long as we were together I didn't really care about the rest of the world, I didn't understand why Ran should either.  For some reason I could ignore the looks and the whispers and the outright prejudice.  Maybe it was because I was already used to it for other reasons.  Ran on the other hand couldn't take it.  

"_Not because of me because of you, Ken.  Don't you see?  These people hate us.  They hate you.  I don't care what they say about me, but these people used to be your friends, and I can't forgive them for that.  Please.  God, Ken please… let's get out of this place." _

Finally Ran said he couldn't do it anymore, and bought a one-way ticket to New York.  I didn't think he'd go, so I'd stood my ground and let him pack up his shit and stand in my doorway and look at me with those eyes, waiting for me to beg him to stay, but I didn't, I just let him go.  Half an hour later I was screaming at a taxi cab driver to forget the fucking speed limit and get me to the airport.  I didn't know anything about Ran's flight, not which airline it was or when it was leaving.  I never found his gate and I ended up falling apart in one of the lobby chairs and cried and cursed and made a spectacle of myself for a good hour before I caught another cab and went home, realizing just how badly I'd fucked up.  It didn't matter where I was with Ran, I just had to be with him.  Why had I clung to this shit-for-nothing town instead of him?  I should have followed him anywhere.  

When I got back home he was there, sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, and I knew he'd been crying too.  I threw myself into his arms and held him so tightly I thought I would break him in half.  He said he'd gotten about halfway to the airport before he realized what he was about to do and that he'd stay anywhere I wanted him to, because he'd lived without me once and he couldn't do it again.  Sobbing I told him that I was stupid, that we could move, I didn't care as long as next time he took me with him.  It sounds like a bad movie, doesn't it?  In my mind it even plays out like that, so melodramatic.  But I guess if it had been a movie it would have turned into a bad porno in the end.    

So we moved to San Fran, back to my roots, where I could finally start to patch things up with my family, and where there were plenty of other people who would not only tolerate but fully accept us.

That was five years ago.  Not once since then did I even consider being without Ran.  There's nothing to consider, I'd be nothing without him.  

I stand up and stretch before walking to the window and pushing the curtain aside.  I press my forehead to the cool windowpane and look out at the bleak streets.  November is such a dead feeling month.  It's not really fall anymore, because all the leaves have fallen, but it's not quite winter either.  

I hear the key turn in the door and turn my head.  Ran walks in holding two cups of coffee and smiling softly.  He's wearing his army jacket.  He always looks so young to me when he wears it these days.  I glance over at the bed where mine is laying, waiting to be put on.  Waiting to make me Ken Hidaka, pilot of the 326th AHC again.  

"I went down to the lobby," Ran says.  "I got some coffee."

"I see that," I answer, quirking my mouth into a smile, before looking back out the window.  I sense him come up behind me.  He hands me a cup over my shoulder and I take it, holding it between my palms to keep me warm.  

I feel his lips brush over the back of my neck as he kisses me softly and puts one arm around my waist.  "Are you ok?"  

I take a deep breath.  "Yeah.  I'm good.  You?"

He shrugs.  "We've been planning today for awhile…" 

"Yeah.  Love me?" I ask to break the strange tension.

"Always," he says, chuckling slightly.  

"Which direction is it from here?  I'm so turned around in this place," I say peering out the window again.  

Ran looks and gestures broadly off to my left.  "That way."

"Ah."  

For a few more moments we stand silently, sipping our coffee, comfortable being with each other and then he leans forward and kisses my head.  "Ready?  We shouldn't be late."

I take another deep breath.  Ready?  Am I ready?  No, not really.  I know that by the time this is over I'm going to be a wreck.  This is going to take me back in a way that nothing has since the day I saw Ran for the first time outside of Vietnam.  "I guess," I say.  

I go to put on my jacket, making sure my 326th AHC wing pin is on straight.  On our way out of the room I grab the three rosebuds I bought yesterday from the glass of water in the bathroom and put them in my breast pocket.  I toss my cup in the trash on our way out of the lobby.  I don't think I really want anything in my stomach right now.  

We get in our rental car and for while I just stare out the window.  Slowly things begin to take shape around me and off in the distance I can see the Washington Memorial, that American symbol of phallic greatness, jutting into the sky.  I know that the sight should fill me with some sort of reverence, but it doesn't, it just makes me feel so damned tired.  I turn to Ran.  "Where are we meeting them again?"

"In front of the Lincoln Memorial."

"And that's nearby, right?"

"According to the map."

"Ok."  I go back to looking out the window. 

Driving down the National Mall is like being in a dream or something.  It looks just exactly like how you imagine it too.  All those important looking buildings and the perfectly manicured green lawns.  The streets are practically empty.  Nothing is going to be running today.  And now the Washington Monument is huge, just right there, undeniable, and it fills me with dread.  I want to scream, 'let me out!'  I want to jump from the car and catch the next plane to San Fran and curl up in bed and go to sleep and forget I ever wanted to come here.  But that's not fair.  It's not fair to Ran, and it's not fair to the others.  They're waiting.

We park the car, and begin our walk to the Lincoln Memorial.  The air is cool and sharp, so I stand close to Ran.  I put my arm around his waist and he puts his around my shoulders and we walk together.  There's no one out and about to give us looks, so it doesn't matter.  

The first thing I see as we come into view of the Lincoln Memorial isn't the giant likeness of Abe Lincoln lounging in his huge stone chair.  It's a ten year old boy with bright orange hair being swung around by his feet by a man with equally bright orange hair.  I can't help but smile, a big goofy grin breaking out on my face.  

I wave and call out, "Oi!  Wolff!" 

The man stops mid kid-swing and looks up.  "Hidaka!  Long time no see, you pole-smokin' ass licker!"  

What a wonderful way to speak in front of your children.  Ran gives Schu a little nod and then the kid in Schu's hands is wriggling free and falling to the pavement and getting back to his feet and running towards us screaming, "They're here, they're here!"  

I throw my arms open and catch the little ball of pre-adolescent fire as he slams into me.  "Hey, Walt!" I say squeezing him tightly.  It really is scary how much Walter Wolff looks like his father.  It's lovable in a creepy sort of way.  Setting him back down I ruffle the kid's hair as we keep on walking towards Max who is just then lighting up a cigarette.  "Where's your mom and sister?" I ask.

"Pissing," he says in that little Texan accent of his.  

I nod.  "That's nice."  Ran snickers and puts his hand on my shoulder.  

Ran and Schuldich and I go through the usual reunion pattern.  The hugging, the joking, the ball busting.  We jostle each other, putting on a little show, but I can feel that the tension that is running through Ran and I is running through Max as well.  A few minutes later Sherry and nine year old Helen come back from 'pissing' and we go over the whole hugging thing once more time.  We laugh and joke for a few more minutes and then I start to look around.  Funny.  I thought we were running late.

"I guess we didn't have to hurry, Ran.  Where the hell are the others?" I say, mostly to myself.

"Oh," Max says, shifting his weight.  "Heh, actually, Lieutenant's already here."  He hitches a thumb towards the Lincoln Memorial.  "He went to look at the statuary."

I swallow and look up at the huge Lincoln.  For a moment I just stare, not sure what I'm feeling.  I haven't seen Youji Kudou since I left Pang Nuan over ten years ago.  I'm not so sure how I feel about seeing him now.  I went through a lot of shit because of Youji Kudou.  I lower my eyes and then feel Ran's hand on my shoulder again.  

"I can go get him," Ran says softly.  Unlike me Ran's been in contact with the Lieutenant over the years.  It's not really a big deal to him.  

"No, it's ok.  I'd like to go see him myself," I say and then step away.  "I'll be back in a few minutes, hopefully with Kudou."  

"Ken…" Ran calls after me, but doesn't seem to really have anything to say.  

Glancing over my shoulder I shake my head.  "It'll be fine."  

As I hurry off, jogging just slightly, heading up the long stairs towards Mr. Lincoln, I know the others are watching me.  I can feel their eyes on my back.  It's a relief when I disappear in amongst the huge stone pillars.  Does everyone really worry about me that much?  What do they think I'm going to do?  Get into a brawl with Youji Kudou at the feet of our nation's greatest president?  I know I can let my emotions get ahead of me but I'm not that irresponsible.  Pausing for a moment I listen.  An older couple walks by, shuffling and smiling.  They look like locals.  I nod to them and then start to walk around behind the columns.  I didn't think I'd find Youji in front of the statue, and sure enough when I finally do find him he's standing at the very edge of the monument, leaning against a column, his back to me, taking a long drag on a cigarette.  His hair is shorter than it used to be, I can tell that already, without even seeing his face.  But other than that he seems pretty much the same.  Same loose, easy way of holding himself, same swagger, apparent even when he's not moving.  

"Youji Kudou, you fucking sonuvabitch," I say coming to stand next to him.  

He turns towards me slowly, eyebrows raised, cigarette hanging limply from his lips.  He looks a lot older than I remember.  Maybe his conscience caught up with him. Serves him right.  I stare at him blankly.

"Well, if it isn't the mambo king himself.  Heh, best fucking dance of my life, Hidaka.  I didn't think you were talking to me," he drawls.  

"Cut the crap, Kudou," I say.  

"You look good.  Are you good?" he asks, taking another drag and exhaling sharply.  

"All things considered."

"That's good."  

"Do you have anything to say to me?"

"Like what?  Nothing you want to hear, I'm sure."

"Fuck, Kudou just say it."  

"Say what?  Oh, that I'm sorry?  Ok.  I'm sorry, Ken."

"Alright then.  Now give me a hug, I haven't seen you in ten years.  Shit you're old," I say.

He looks me up and down and then bursts into laughter, dropping his cigarette and snubbing it out underneath his foot before stepping towards me and drawing me into a tight embrace.  We laugh for a moment and then he grabs my shoulders and pushes me back.  He smiles at me at then ruffles my hair.  

"Who's old, punk?" he says.

Looking at Youji if feels good to let it go.  Ever since I learned the truth, that Youji had lied to Ran and I to keep us apart because he thought it was for the best on both sides, I've carried around a painful hole in my heart.  Youji was one of the people I relied on the most when I was in Nam, knowing he betrayed me killed something inside that even Ran couldn't revive.  But now, seeing his smile, knowing he was willing to come here I know that he didn't do what he did out of malice.  With all the time and distance between us, it doesn't matter anymore.  I've feared this moment for so long, and now I know there's nothing to fear anymore.  I can forgive Youji.  I can let it go, because Ran's with me now and that's all that matters.  

I turn and look down the hill on which we're perched.  I can see Ran and Max's family down at the bottom of the steps and beyond them the reflecting pool, casting back a perfect image of the sky and the Washington Memorial.  I suddenly feel very peaceful and I'm ready for today.  Down at the base of the stairs another figure wanders into the group.  I touch Youji's shoulder.  "Let's go, old man.  Jei's here," I say, pointing.  

I jam my hands into my pockets as Youji lights up again and together, in silence, we make our way to the stairs and down to the others.  Sure enough Jei Farfarello is standing next to Schuldich and when he looks up at Kudou and I, I realize that he's wearing an eye patch.  

I shake my head.  "Jesus, Jei, what the fuck happened to you?"

"Oh, you know, Nippy, comes with the job," he says looking even crazier than he used to, cocking an eyebrow above his one good, yellowish eye.  

"Do I want to know what you do for a living?" I say.

"No."

There is more hugging and laughing and catching up.  The kids are getting restless.  Finally we all seem to take a collective breath.    
"Let's do this," Max says, taking his wife's hand.  The rest of us nod and I slide my arm around Ran's waist again.  We head around the drive, past the reflecting pool and into the Constitution Gardens.  There's nothing really growing here this time of year.  All the bushes are barren save for a few straggling leaves.  It feels so empty and sad, but I figure that works.  We stand at the entrance to the garden for a moment.  There is a little kiosk with booklets.  Ran picks one up and leafs through it briefly before smiling at me distantly and putting it in his pocket.  The others each take one and then we move on.   

I'm thinking about the lack of vegetation in the garden so much that I'm not prepared when all of a sudden there it is.  The long black wall, reflecting back the diffused November sunlight.  It shines with a light that seems innate.  It is thick and solid and powerful and it takes my breath away.  It's almost five hundred feet long, erupting form the earth at the west and east and running at an angle until it meets at the apex, ten feet tall, and every single inch of it is covered in names.  Endless, numberless, going on off into eternity.  The names loop around, going in order by date of death.  The first to die start at the apex and go east until the wall runs into the ground again, and then the names pick up again on the west end, listing off until the last to die meet the first to die and the whole thing is somehow complete.  A circuit of death.  I can't breathe and as we draw closer I can feel the tension and the sadness and the awe run through the rest of us.  The impact is has on Ran, Kudou, Schu, Jei, and I cannot be understood by someone who, like Sherry, was never there.  She probably doesn't even know one name on that wall, but I can think of many, three in particular that will be there, that will speak to me.  We walk the length in silence, just taking in the impact that this black, ominous monument has to impart.  When we reach the end we pause before stepping closer.  Flowers and offerings are left lined along the bottom of the wall.  

I stare blankly for a moment and I feel Ran's arm tighten around my shoulders.  I realize distantly that he probably knows more names on this wall than I do.  

"There it is," he says at last.

"Yeah," I breathe.  "There it is."

"You ok?"

I nod and reach around his waist to pull him closer.  "Can I see that booklet?" 

He reaches into his pocket and then hands it to me.  "Sure."

I take it from his fingers and I realize that both of our hands are shaking just slightly.  For a few moments I flip though the booklet until I have my bearings.  I look around and note the numbers and letters on the bottom of each panel and then hand the booklet back to my lover.  I know where I need to go.  

"I wanna go look.  Alone.  Do you mind?" 

"Of course not."

I pull away from the comfort of Ran's arm and go to stand against the black marble, running my fingers over a few of the names.  The stone feels so cold and a coldness inside of me echoes it.  I put my hand over the roses in my pocket.  Leaving one finger on the wall I start to walk backwards from the end, heading back towards the beginning.  As I walk my eyes scan the names as they pass by in blurry anonymity.  My hand scans, my eyes scan, working backwards through the dates of death.  I walk all the way to the end of the west wall and then stop and turn around.  Now to look in earnest.  I know that the three names I want to find should be close together.  They all died within a couple months of each other.  Somewhere in the middle of 1969 I'll find them.  I walk to the correct panel and being to scan, using my fingers to run over every name, up and down the rows until all of a sudden: 

**Omi Tsukiyono **

Its appearance amongst all of the other names is like a physical blow.  Up until now they had just been letters strung together but this… this is a person.  A life that is no more.  Someone I knew, someone I carry with me at all times.  And he is here too, locked in the black granite amongst all the other names.  To most people he's just a bunch of letters strung together, but to me…  I take a quivering breath, but I don't cry.  Even as the images of the kid's smiling face start to fill my mind, as I see him lying broken in my arms, vomiting up his own blood as he dies, as I remember how he always won at poker, and how I never got to tell him about Kase and the whole rest of the mess I don't do anything but stare and breathe.  I don't cry.  Deep on the inside I want to scream as my very soul starts to shake, but I don't let it out.  If I fall apart now I'll never make it through the rest of the names.  And I need to.  Hunkering down I squat for a moment and let my head rest against the cold granite.  I place one red rose at the base of the wall below Omi's name and then get to my feet. 

Placing my fingers over Omi's name I continue to trace along through the names.  There are just so many.  So many.  And each one has a story, a story just like Omi's, a story like mine or Ran's or Schuldich's or Jei's.  A story that has ended, and I wonder if there is someone somewhere for each of these names who remembers, who will come to leave flowers and touch the etched name of the remembered.  I wonder if there would have been anyone for me if I had died in Nam.  

A lot more names pass under my fingers that I feel should.  The next name should be here, it shouldn't be that far away, should it?  I don't know.  Time is so warped in my head somehow.  And then suddenly I'm on the wrong panel.  Too much time has passed now.  I pause and then trace back up through the names, looking harder this time, staring at every letter.  My fingers run over the name **James D Mitchell.  I realize as I reach out and touch this Mitchell that I either don't remember or never knew my Mitchell's first name.  He was just Mitchell.  But the placement seems right and somehow it sounds right when I say it in my head.  Smiling sadly I shake my head and whisper, "I'm sorry, buddy.  I really am so sorry."  I try not to think about his face cradled in his hands as blood froths up in between his fingers, or the smell of his decaying body in the heat of the jungle afternoon.  But of course that's impossible.  Dropping down I place another rose below ****James D Mitchell and then get up to finish off my journey.  If this is Mitchell and I know where Omi is then the last name has to be somewhere in between.  I wonder how I missed it the first time.      **

Again I move along the wall, heading back towards Omi, the fingertips of one hand running over the imprinted letters.  

**Omi Tsukiyono**

I stop and look back down the wall.  Did I miss it again?  How could I keep missing it?  It had to be there, right?  It had to be!  Furrowing my brows, beginning to feel something aching and trembling inside of me and head back towards Mitchell's name and when I reach it again, my search once more fruitless I can't help but slap my hand against the granite, making a small sound of frustration and despair.  I walk midway between the two names and step back to look at the wall again.  And I understand.  It makes such perfect sense.  

I take a deep breath and smile sadly.  Somewhere in that space of black granite is where the name Bradley Crawford belongs.  But of course Bradley Crawford is not on the wall of Vietnam casualties, because Bradley Crawford was a section eight suicide case.  This is their final insult, the final twisting of the knife in the heart of Bradley Crawford.  He doesn't even exist.  He never happened.  But I know the truth.  I know that Vietnam killed Bradley Crawford as surely as it killed Omi or Mitchell or any of the other men who fell under enemy fire.  Brad Crawford is the ultimate Vietnam casualty, but far be it from anyone to admit it.  I stare at the blackness for a long time, until the stone gets blurry and I realize that I'm crying now.  I step closer to the wall again, hoping that by leaning against it I can hide my tears from the others.  I remember the speech that the Lieutenant Commander gave us my very first day at Pang Nuan and the conversation we had on the training field.  I may not have really known the guy all that well, but I knew him well enough.  Closing my eyes I remember the way his blood looked spread out over the back wall of his office and then fall to my knees, shaking.  

And then it all comes back to me.  All the pain and the suffering and the fear and the confusion.  So many men living in hell and dying in fear for a cause that was not their own, for no cause it seemed.  I want to scream and tear down the wall with my own two hands.  I want to build a new wall, one for every name etched in the blackness before me. I want to write Bradley Crawford's name in blood across the whole damn mess so that those who see will understand.  But nothing can make them understand, not even I understand anymore.  I don't think I ever did.  

Shaking, crying quietly, I blindly place the last rose on the ground beneath where Bradley Crawford's name should be.  A moment later I feel someone hunker down beside me, and I know it's not Ran because I know what he feels like.

"It's not there is it?"  It's Youji's voice, low and thoughtful.

I shake my head silently and choke back a sob.  His hand rests gently on my back and for a moment we just crouch there.  

"Typical," Youji says at last and then gets up and walks quietly away.  

I get slowly to my feet, wiping at my eyes, holding back the screams of futility that are building in my mind.  I walk away from the wall, not wanting to be in its presence any longer, not wanting to feel so dwarfed and empty by that black granite.  I have done what I came to do and I don't want to have anything more to do with any of it.  I start walking towards the entrance of the Constitution Gardens, ignoring the looks and calls that follow me, and I don't stop until I am suddenly back and the Lincoln Memorial looking down over the reflecting pool and the huge double image of the Washington Monument.  Clenching my fists I stare at the symbol of out nation's greatness and then scream, "Fuck!" as loudly as I can before sitting down heavily on one of the white steps and putting my head in my hands.  

Time passes.  

"Ken?" 

Looking up I see Ran standing a few yard away from me, looking at me tentatively.  He doesn't want to disturb me if I'm not ready for him to.  

I blink away a few lingering tears and smile to tell him it's alright.  "Hey, you," I say softly.  

He comes to sit next to me, putting his arm around my back and pulling me closer.  I lie my head against his shoulder and together we stare out at the reflecting pool.  "Whoever designed that thing knew what they were doing," I say quietly.  "God it hit me like a ton of bricks just looking at it."

"Mm."  

"Did you find Yuushi's name?" I ask.

"Yes."

I'm not sure what to say so I snuggle a little closer.  "Crawford's name wasn't even on there."

"I know.  I saw."  

"It's not fair.  The whole fucking thing was so unfair.  Seeing that wall just made me think about how futile it was.  What did we accomplish?  Nothing.  We didn't win, we didn't even really help.  We just prolonged the inevitable.  Crawford was right; it was all just a political crock of shit.  'Fighting for Democracy,' bull.  The whole damn mess should never have happened.  That wall shouldn't even be there," I say, watching the reflection of a bird fly across the water.  

Ran is silent for a few moments and then he sighs.  "You know, Ken, I thank God every day that the Vietnam War happened.  If it didn't I wouldn't have you now.  And having you with me is worth everything I went through in Nam.  I would do it all again if it meant having you."

I close my eyes and let his words wash over me.  No matter how long I am with him it can never be long enough, it will never make his love stop affecting me.  "I would do it again for you, Ran," I answer.  "But I like to think that even if the war hadn't happened I would have found you somehow.  I know I would have."

"Hn.  I wouldn't want to chance it," he answers, kissing the top of my head.  

"Where are the others?" I ask.  

"Still looking, I think.  Let them look, I'm satisfied."  

Leaning farther into Ran I slip my arm around his waist.  "I don't think satisfied quite fits what I'm feeling, but I'm done nonetheless."

"You want to head back to the hotel?  We already know where we're all meeting for dinner.  No reason to wait."

"In a minute," I answer.

"Sure."  

"I love you, Ran."

"I love you too, Ken.  Happy Thanksgiving."  

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

*Special Note*: *sheepish grin*  Well… thanks to one of my reviewers, Tao *pets Tao*, it was pointed out to me that I did not do my research as thoroughly as I thought I did.  Turns out the names on the wall are not alpha by last name, but go by date of death.  I must have scrambled the conversation I had with my step-dad about it somewhere along the way. -_-;;.  So I re-wrote that part. And that's all I have to say about that.  Gomen for my incompetence.      


End file.
